AT THE DAY'S END.
All day among the anxious crowd I pressed, All day I strove and bartered with the best. All day my feet were busy In the mart— - Have I not earned my little hour of rest? ' Oh, my beloved, the shelter of your heart! Oh, my beloved, the quiet of your breast! Ere the morn broke Toll called us to arise; When the noon fell she drove us" tyrantwise; Slow In the twilight died her loud alarmsFain would I turn me where the silence lies. Oh, my beloved, the comfort of your arms! Oh, my beloved, the healing of your eyes! As footworn travellers a little space Kneel In the shadow of some holy Dlaee, Too wearied, to lament or to rejoice, So in your love receive me of your grace. Oh, my beloved, the soothing of your voice! Oh, my beloved, the pity of your face! "Tha Smart Set"
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https://paperspast.natlib.govt.nz/newspapers/AS19021011.2.74.56
Bibliographic details
Auckland Star, Volume XXXIII, Issue 242, 11 October 1902, Page 6 (Supplement)
Word Count
153AT THE DAY'S END. Auckland Star, Volume XXXIII, Issue 242, 11 October 1902, Page 6 (Supplement)
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Acknowledgements
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