Epigraph: 'The world is but a rugged road/ Which leads us to the bright abode/ Of peace above.' (Longfellow)
The hours of day are done, and from the sides
There steals a stillness solemn and serene;
And as a weary war-worn veteran lies
Freed from his toil, at rest from warfare keen,
Nature exhausted sleeps. And silently
The glittering stars send down their pale cold light,
Turning our thoughts towards Eternity,
Where vulgar passions are unknown as night:
Where gates of pearl are ever open wide,
And he that overcometh shall receive
Eternal life: where sorrow's rushing tide
Can never break; where partings cannot grieve;
And he whose heart by trouble is borne down
Shall for his cross receive a glorious crown.
First published in The Queenslander, 12 March 1892;
and later in:
A Sheaf of Sonnets by A. J. Rolfe, 1892
Note: this poem in the third in a sequence of poems that the author wrote about each month of the year.
Author reference sites: Austlit
See also.
The hours of day are done, and from the sides
There steals a stillness solemn and serene;
And as a weary war-worn veteran lies
Freed from his toil, at rest from warfare keen,
Nature exhausted sleeps. And silently
The glittering stars send down their pale cold light,
Turning our thoughts towards Eternity,
Where vulgar passions are unknown as night:
Where gates of pearl are ever open wide,
And he that overcometh shall receive
Eternal life: where sorrow's rushing tide
Can never break; where partings cannot grieve;
And he whose heart by trouble is borne down
Shall for his cross receive a glorious crown.
First published in The Queenslander, 12 March 1892;
and later in:
A Sheaf of Sonnets by A. J. Rolfe, 1892
Note: this poem in the third in a sequence of poems that the author wrote about each month of the year.
Author reference sites: Austlit
See also.
