Reverie by Ella Wheeler Wilcox — Read

The day has been wild and stormy, / And full of the wind's unrest, / And I sat down alone by the window, / While the sunset dyed the West; / And the holy rush of twilight, / As the day went over the hill, / Like the voice of a spirit seemed speaking / And saying, 'Peace be still.'

Then I thought with sudden longing, / That it might be so with my woes; / That the life so wild and restless, / When it reached the eve's repose, / Might glow with a sudden glory, / And be crowned with peace and rest; / And the holy calm of twilight / Might come to my troubled breast.

All of the pain and passion / That trouble my life's long day / As the winds go down at sunset, / May suddenly pass away. / And the wild and turbulent billows, / That surge in my heart at will, / Shall be hushed into calm and silence / By the whisper, 'Peace be still. ' / And my soul grew full of patience, / And I said, 'I can bear it all, / Though the day be long and stormy, / The twilight at last must fall. '