Softly I closed the book as in a dream And let its echoes linger to redeem Silence with music, darkness with its gleam. That day I worked no more. I could not bring My hands to toil, my thoughts to trafficking. A new light shone on every common thing. Celestial glories flamed before my gaze. That day I worked no more. But, to God's praise, I shall work better all my other days. |