Anonymous

When the clouds trail lace over the new moon,
and the great stars shine in the West
'tis the hour of worship,
and my head bows low on thy breast.
When the stars give place,
as the clear dawn wakes,
and the great sun mounts in the sky,
lift a song on high.
 
 

poem by John Kendrick Bangs

I never knew a night so black,
light failed to follow on its track.
I never knew a storm so gray,
it failed to have its clearing day.
I never knew such bleak despair that there was not a rift somewhere.
I never knew an hour so drear,
love could not fill it full of cheer.