Evening had come; all day the sun had pouredDown through the attic window, and all dayThe pen moved swiftly at the Word of God.And now the sun set, and the pen was still.

The katydids were loud, they were not still;Nor were the little fretful waves that brokeOn the red rocks, ebbing and flowing thereWith the hours and the tides from dawn to dusk, and thenFrom dusk to dawn.

December 17, 1938

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