Classic Poem

When in the shadow of the twilight room
We sit together, opening each to each
Our stores of hope, our depths of unbelief,
And comfort comes with speech, until the soul
Lays warning finger upon eager lip
And we are silent, trusting not to words
The very innermost,—then come the tones
Of masters who have voiced in other years
All we would say of longing and of trust;
Softly the notes lead heart to heart, and blend
Into one chord of effort triumphing
The weakness of our spirits. When the lights
Come glimmering in, eyes turn to questioning eyes
And read the secret music has betrayed.