Like many of you, I reserve a book or two during the week and pull it out for the treasured moments of time on Sunday afternoon and evening. For the most part, my reading on Sunday is not serious. It is reading of a restful sort, designed to ease and pleasure. Today that book happened to be Hilaire Belloc’s “Sonnets and Verse.” Oh how I wish I could share them all with you. I will instead just commend the work for your reading–truly delightful. But upon retiring tonight to bed, I will share just one treat from its pages. An appropriate verse to close out the day, the advent of the night.
Most holy Night, that still dost keep
The keys of all the doors of sleep
To me when my tired eyelids close
Give thou repose.
And let the far lament of them
That chaunt the dead day’s requiem
Make in my ears, who wakeful lie,
Let them that guard the horned moon
By my bedside their memories croon.
So shall I have new dreams and blest
In my brief rest.
Fold your great wings about my face,
Hid dawning from my resting-place,
And cheat me with your false delight,
Most Holy Night.