To the Southern Cross

By James Stanley Gilbert

 

When evening drapes her filmy robe

O'er distant hill and drooping palm,

And, save soft echoes, naught disturbs

The purple twilight's drowsy calm

 

Soft echoes from the coral reef;

The waves' low greeting to the stars,

That, answering across the sea,

Send fellowship on shining bars

 

'Tis then, while earth is slumbering,

Its woes forgot in restful dreams,

That thou, Christ's love-test symbolling,

Shed'st o'er the blue thy sacred beams.

 

'Tis then by him who, listening, waits,

The still, small voice is heard again

In songthe sweetest ever sung

"Upon earth peace: good-will to men!"