All Day In The Hot Blue Sunshine by Elizabeth Goudge

All day in the hot blue sunshine,
On quivering, tireless wings,
The lark between earth and heaven
Ceaselessly, joyously sings.
But now at last she is sinking
Down to her nest.
So turn to your rest, my lady,
Turn to your rest
And dream.

The scarlet lamps of the tulips
Are fading and burning dim,
Faint as the sun that is sinking
In softness o’er the world’s rim,
Draining the world of its colour
At night’s behest.
So turn to your rest, my lady,
Turn to your rest
And dream.

The wind that laughed in your garden
Has wearied and dropped asleep,
Leaving the lilies his playmates
His whispered secrets to keep,
The lilies in golden-crowned white
Royally dressed.
So turn to your rest, my lady,
Turn to your rest
And dream.

Wrapped in her mantle of twilight,
Her cloak of silver and grey,
Night the great mother steals downward
To burnish the burning day,
Her voice comes clear in the stillness,
‘Now sleep is best.’
So turn to your rest, my lady,
Turn to your rest
And dream.

Holding out arms of cool comfort
To her children, whispering low
Of that dark, deep, peaceful silence
That only her sleepers know,
The merciful night is holding
Earth to her breast.
So turn to your rest, my lady,
Turn to your rest
And dream.

From: Goudge, Elizabeth, Three Cities of Bells, 1965, Hodder & Stoughton: London, pp. 436, 438.

Date: 1936

By: Elizabeth Goudge (1900-1984)

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