Even-Song
Come , O Love, while the far stars whiten,
Gathering, growing, momently;
Thou, who art star of stars, to lighten
One dim heart that waiteth thee.
Speak, O Love, for the silence presses,
Bowing my spirit like a fear;
Thou, whose words are as caresses,
Sweet, sole voice that I long to hear.
Gathering, growing, momently;
Thou, who art star of stars, to lighten
One dim heart that waiteth thee.
Speak, O Love, for the silence presses,
Bowing my spirit like a fear;
Thou, whose words are as caresses,
Sweet, sole voice that I long to hear.
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