When Day is dead, and Eve broods dim
O'er fading scene and sound,
When grey haze veils the city,
A dream-wall round and round,
Soundless as sleep from o'er the sea,
Wingeth thy thought through the dusk to me.
Rapture of the rest on the silent land,
On the sea, on the long, lone dune,
The moon a-drowse in a dappled sky,
Where towers and tall spires swoon,
And through the dusk, a homing dove,
Thy thought, with rest to me, my love.
Another from Lays and Lyrics by J.K. (Jessie Kerr) Lawson my Great, Great Grandmother circa 1913
Photo © Leigh Viner 2013 available here