And whether in gray or in black cope,--
Spider of the eve, good hope,--
Smoke ye roofs, and tables swell
With meats to mouths delectable;
And while the kitchen smoke upcurls,
Kiss and kiss, you boys and girls!
Night, the women, where they sit,
Can no longer see to knit;
Now, like loving fingers linking,
Work is done and sleep is blinking,
As balm on pious spirits drips,
All tearful eyes, all praying lips,
And straw to beasts, to mankind beds
Of solace for their weary heads.
Good-night! and men and women cross
Arms on your souls, or hearts that toss.
And in your dreams of white or blue,
Servants near the children you;
And peace now all your life, you trees,
Mills, and roofs, and brooks, and leas,
And rest you toilers all, between
The woollen soft, the linen clean,
And Christs forgotten in the cold,
And Magdalenes within the fold,
And Heaven far as sees the eye,
At the four corners of the sky.