Helios' cape is sweeping down,
Its holes give light from other worlds,
It gently drags o'er sleepy town,
On hill and dale, it is unfurled.
The night hides all feats in a cloak,
In sleep, lord and slave are peer,
It quaffs the manor and the yoke,
Staff and sword or peddler's gear.
The dusk makes men lay down their arms,
Friend and foe both lose their forms,
Now silent are the loud alarms,
Now is the calm of every storm.
The spirits, traveling in renown,
Make dreams in all the sleepers curled,
Beneath the muslin, wool, or down,
And shape scenes of a gentler world.
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