In the quiet of the evening
As shades of night begin to fall
And the time of our believing
Gently whispers goodnight to all,
Grasp the moment and remember
The days of old we used to know
Be it May or late December
In sunshine, rain or early snow,
Where we have learned to close our eyes
Each waiting the advent of light
With no assurance of surprise
This is no longer our last sight !
Claire V. Bogdanos 