She Comes Not When Noon is on the Roses

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She comes not when Noon is on the roses--
   Too bright is Day.
She comes not to the Soul till it reposes
   From work and play.

But when Night is on the hills, and the great Voices
   Roll in from Sea,
By starlight and by candlelight and dreamlight
   She comes to me.

by Herbert Trench.

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