The Spike or Victoria University College Review June 1918

Evening

Evening

Evening—and though the trees
Moon sheds her light.
Spirit why ling'rest thou,
Still in thy night?

Leave thy earth's cloying bed—
Leave all decay;
Pass where the moon doth shed
Her luring ray,

There where a peace enfolds
In harmony,
All that no finite holds
Of mystery.

E.R.D.