Mary Mapes Dodge (1831–1905)

THERE is a time between our night and day,

A space between this world and the unknown,

Where none may enter as we stand alone

Save the one other single soul that may;

Then is all perfect if the two but stay.

It is the time when, the home-evening flown,

And “good-nights” sped in happy household tone,

We look out from the casement ere we pray.

Into the world of darkness deep and far

We gaze—each depth with its own deepest star,

That brightens as we turn, nor yet recedes

When we would search it with our sorest needs,—

O holy living-ground from heaven won!

O time beyond the night when day is done!