VOLUNTARY 45 And waited,*till before me she dropped dead. O golden bird in these dove-coloured skies How long I sought, how long with wearied eyes I sought, O bird, the promise of thy flight 1 And now the morn has dawned, the morn has died. The day has come and gone ; and once more night About my lone life settles, wild and wide. VOLUNTARY HERE in the quiet eve My thankful eyes receive The quiet light I see the trees stand fair Against the faded aira And star by star prepare The perfect night. And in my bosom, lo ! Content and quiet grow Toward perfect peace. And now when day is done, Brief day of wind and sun, The pure stars, one by one, Their troop increase.