At Twilight Time
By Arthur Macy
At twilight time when tolls the chime,
And saddest notes are falling,
A lonely bird with plaintive word
Across the dusk is calling.
Vain doth it wait for one dear mate,
That ne'er shall know the morrow;
Then sinks to rest with drooping crest
In one long dream of sorrow.
Dearest, when night is here,
To thee I'm calling,
Sadly as tear on tear
Is slowly falling,
Oh, fold me near, more near -
In love enthralling!
Here on thy breast,
While life shall last,
With thee I stay.
Here will I rest
Till night is past,
And comes the day!