If the day is done ,
If birds sing no more .
If the wind has fiagged tired ,
Then draw the veil of darkness thick upon me,
Even as thou hast wrapt the earth with The coverlet of sleep and tenderly closed,
The petals of the drooping lotus at dusk.
From the traveler,
Whose sack of provisions is empty before the voyage is ended,
Whose garment is torn and dust-laden ,
Whose strength is exhausted, remove shame and poverty ,
And renew his life like a flower under
The cover of thy kindly night .
I am not yours, not lost in you,
Not lost, although I long to be
Lost as a candle lit at noon,
Lost as a snowflake in the sea.
You love me, and I find you still
A spirit beautiful and bright,
Yet I am I, who long to be
Lost as a light is lost in light.
Oh plunge me deep in love—put out
My senses, leave me deaf and blind,
Swept by the tempest of your love,
A taper in a rushing wind.