WHEN all the weary flowers, br Worn out with sunlit hours, br Droop o'er the garden beds br Their little sleepy heads, br The dewy dusk on quiet wings comes stealing; br And, as the night descends, br The shadows troop like friends br To bring them healing. br br br So, weary of the light br Of life too full and bright, br We long for night to fall br To wrap us from it all; br Then death on dewy wings draws near and holds us, br And like a kind friend come br To children far from home, br With love enfolds us.