If the day is done ,

If birds sing no more .

If the wind has fiagged tired ,

Then draw the veil of darkness thick upon me ,

Even as thou hast wrapt the earth with The coverlet of sleep and tenderly closed ,

The petals of the drooping lotus at dusk.

From the traverer,

Whose sack of provisions is empty before the voyage is ended ,

Whose garment is torn and dust-laden ,

Whose strength is exhausted,remove shame and poverty ,

And renew his life like a flower under

The cover of thy kindly night .