When I am weary, thronged with the cares of the vain day <br />That tease as harsh winds tease the unresting autumn boughs, <br />I still my mind at evening and put all else away <br />But the image of my Love, where all my hopes I house. <br /> <br />The thoughts of her fall gently as the gentleness of snow. <br />That after storm makes smoothness in the ways that are rough; <br />White with a hush of beauty over my heart they grow <br />To the peace of which my heart can never hold enough.<br /><br />Robert Laurence Binyon<br /><br />http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/day-s-end-12/
