At that hour when all things have repose,     O lonely watcher of the skies,     Do you hear the night wind and the sighs Of harps playing unto Love to unclose     The pale gates of sunrise?

When all things repose, do you alone     Awake to hear the sweet harps play     To Love before him on his way, And the night wind answering in antiphon     Till night is overgone?

Play on, invisible harps, unto Love,     Whose way in heaven is aglow     At that hour when soft lights come and go, Soft sweet music in the air above     And in the earth below.