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1873–1953

IN A GARDEN

Bernard Moore

A twilight peace droops tenderly, The discords of the day depart, And through the hush there comes to be A harmony within the heart;

And waking to the quivering strings Spirits are touched to finer things. Sweet hand-fast silences of eve, When love's supremest note is heard

In symphonies the spirits weave Beyond the need of mortal word, O! may we keep your music when We pace the noisy haunts of men.

Give us the strength for daily stress Of toil about the busy world; Give us a balm to bitterness From wounds when cruel shafts are hurled;

And give us courage in a sense Of Love's divine omnipotence. For Life can never lonely be Since Love has broken all the bars

That stayed the soul from unity With Heaven and its ten thousand stars, Whose music falls sublimely grand Through silences of hand in hand.

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IN A GARDEN · Bernard Moore · Poetry Cove