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 traveler,
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.