Walter Murdoch (1874–1970). The Oxford Book of Australasian Verse. 1918.
134. The Hour of Twilight
W
And far away their tumults cease,
Within the twilight of the heart
We bathe in peace, are stilled with peace.
For angry deed or sin of sense
Now is the star and homeward ray
To us who bow in penitence.
And find a secret sweet in them:
The thorns once dripped with shadowy rain
Are bright upon each diadem.
The struggle with the scarlet sin:
The mad enchanted laugh of life
Tempts not the soul that sees within.
Allures the prodigals who bow
Within the home of law, and throng
Before the mystic Father now,
High souls absolved from grief and sin,
Leaning from out ancestral spheres
Beckon the wounded spirit in.