All essences of sweetness from the white <br />Warm day go up in vapor, when the dark <br />Comes down. Ascends the tune of meadow-lark, <br />Ascends the noon-time smell of grass, when night <br />Takes sunlight from the world, and gives it ease. <br />Mysterious wings have brushed the air; and light <br />Float all the ghosts of sense and sound and sight; <br />The silent hive is echoing the bees. <br />So stir my thoughts at this slow, solemn time. <br />Now only is there certainty for me <br />When all the day's distilled and understood. <br />Now light meets darkness: now my tendrils climb <br />In this vast hour, up the living tree, <br />Where gloom foregathers, and the stern winds brood.<br /><br />Genevieve Taggard<br /><br />http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/the-vast-hour/
