After Dark Poem by Cicely Fox Smith

Under the blue sky,
And the white clouds sailing high,
Where the gallant wind went by,
A bird sang on - sang on
Till the day (too soon) was done.

And the daylight died
From the fields and the hillside,
And the moorland bare and wide . . .
But the bird sang on - sang on
Long after the light was gone -

Like a voice that said:
'Oh, you who weep your dead,
Be comforted - be comforted!
For the deed lives on, lives on
Long after the life is gone!' . . .