O, Give Me Peace.

The sun in white upon the streets;
The dust is thick upon the pane;
And summer, with its burning heats,
Has dried my life. And tired my brain.

The busy clock ticks ceaselessly,
And people chat, but little say;
While thoughts that struggle to be free
Fail in the fight and die away.

When will the twilight shadows come,
And make the day-things soft and grey?
Then shall I walk when eve has come,
And try to find some peaceful way.

And pushing at an old church-door
Find, as I tread the dim, hushed aisle.
A calm my yearning fades before,
I'll shut my mind and brain awhile.

Woo Memory, and kneel and pray,
The simple words unrest bid cease;
So for this moment of the day
I'll have what I am seeking, "Peace"

—M.L.N.