Respite is a come good- or the memory of a wish that did after the darkIn Springtimes Fields of GloryAnd let me lie in springtimes fields of glory,In meadows at bloom, a counterpointed flower,Where clouds, effacing, having lost their daunted presence,And I to peace of these, and thought,Know healing silence in feeling,Touch, and understanding.Beauty, my long companion, will drape a pall Of lovely, silken gray, of sunbeamsTurned briefly, in kindness, aside, To sprinkle crystal raindrops over petaledRoses, dried of time and feeling, and lightly rosined,Close to twilight.The time will be of rest from struggle, The absolute devouring of doubt and fear, and,Most, the loneliness of a heart apart,That could see and could not catch, left,A heart, alone.