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The Hour of Twilight

 WHEN the unquiet hours depart
And far away their tumults cease,
Within the twilight of the heart
We bathe in peace, are stilled with peace.
The fire that slew us through the day For angry deed or sin of sense Now is the star and homeward ray To us who bow in penitence.
We kiss the lips of bygone pain And find a secret sweet in them: The thorns once dripped with shadowy rain Are bright upon each diadem.
Ceases the old pathetic strife, The struggle with the scarlet sin: The mad enchanted laugh of life Tempts not the soul that sees within.
No riotous and fairy song Allures the prodigals who bow Within the home of law, and throng Before the mystic Father now, Where faces of the elder years, High souls absolved from grief and sin, Leaning from out ancestral spheres Beckon the wounded spirit in.

Poem by George William Russell
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Book: Shattered Sighs