Songs of the Spring Nights: IV

The night is damp and warm and still,
And soft with summer dreams;
The buds are bursting at their will,
And shy the half moon gleams.

My soul is cool, as bathed within
By dews that silent weep--
Like child that has confessed his sin,
And now will go to sleep.

My body ages, form and hue;
But when the spring winds blow,
My spirit stirs and buds anew,
Younger than long ago.

Lord, make me more a child, and more,
Till Time his own end bring,
And out of every winter sore
I pass into thy spring.