Explore "Nocturne" by Virna Sheard on Textopian. Read with annotations and highlights.
Infold us with thy peace, dear moon-lit night, / And let thy silver silence wrap us round / Till we forget the city's dazzling light, / The city's ceaseless sound.
Here where the sand lies white upon the shore, / And little velvet-fingered breezes blow, / Dear sea, thy world-old wonder-song once more / Sing to us e'er we go.
Give us thy garnered sweets, short summer hour: / Perfume of rose, and balm of sun-steeped pine; / Scent from the lily's cup and horned flower, / Where bees have drained the wine.
Come, small musicians in the rough sea grass, / Pipe us the serenade we love the best; / And winds of midnight, chant for us a mass, / Our hearts would be at rest.
God of all beauty, though the world is thine, / Our faith grows often faint, oft hope is spent; / Show us Thyself in all things fair and fine, / Teach us the stars' content.