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She Comes Not
by Herbert  Trench

She comes not when Noon is on the roses-- 
   Too bright is Day. 
She comes not to the Soul till it reposes 
   From work and play. 

But when Night is on the hills, and the great Voices 
   Roll in from Sea, 
By starlight and candle-light and dreamlight 
   She comes to me.
        
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Poem ID: 46117   Poem Posted: 9/10/2000
Viewed: 223291  Voted On: 2186  E-mailed: 886  Commented On: 10
 
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