In silence, the old fasting tune,
The clock makes peace to still.
The world is loud again but not:
Too brash, too coloured in with rainy smells-
It's full as always was but I,
I... am somehow there'er than before.

Grim-golden gates embroider hems of shadow,
The cavity laid slick upon the grass,
Receding up queer mottled stairs,
To hide from every fury of the stars.

A day of praise,
To One far higher than I,
Who stepped down so low,
He took on flesh and tears,
He bore my death,
And crushed my fear.

Settle down my heart,
Bask in His peace,
Dwell in the knowledge of your God,
Warm your thoughts with His love,
Sing silent praise to your God,
Feast on his promise and plans,
He's done much good to you.