THE sleeping tarn is dark br Below the wooded hill. br Save for its homing sounds, br The twilit world grows still. br And I am left to muse br In grave-eyed mystery, br And watch the stars come out br As sandalled dusk goes by. br And now the light is gone, br The drowsy murmurs cease, br And through the still unknown br I wonder whence comes peace. br Then softly falls the word br Of one beyond a name, br 'Peace only comes to him br Who guards his life from shame, — br 'Who gives his heart to love, br And holding truth for guide, br Girds him with fearless strength, br That freedom may abide.