Let us rise, O my heart, let us go where the twilight is calling
Far away from the sound of this lonely and menacing crowd,
To the glens, to the glades, where the magical darkness is falling
In rivers of gold from the breast of a radiant cloud.
Come away, come away from this throng and its tumult of sorrow,
There is rest, there is peace from the pang of its manifold strife
Where the halcyon night holds in trust the dear songs of the morrow,
And the silence is but a rich pause in the music of life.
Let us climb where the eagles keep guard on the rocky grey ledges,
Let us lie 'neath the palms where perchance we may listen, and reach
A delicate dream from the lips of the slumbering sedges,
That catch from the stars some high tone of their mystical speech.
Or perchance, we may glean a far glimpse of the Infinite Bosom
In whose glorious shadow all life is unfolded or furled.
Thro' the luminous hours ere the lotus of dawn shall reblossom
In petals of splendour to worship the Lord of the world.