All day soft rain have wrapt the city round
In misty cloak with soothing in each fold,
Halted Life's pageant; softened each harsh sound,
Our world win[d]s back to simpler days of old.
The dwindling traffic goes half-muffled by,
Life's tawdry glitter fades; the home lights shine
With their old intimate luring; Peace draws nigh
To lay on chafing hearts her touch divine.
Even Youth's hot urgency is stayed awhile;
The car at rest; the racquet laid aside.
Hearth comfort, song, and gracious books beguile,
And calm creeps back to souls unsatisfied,
Till the lost charms of Home stands forth confessed?
....The quiet things, the quiet hours are the best!
Emily Bulcock (1945)
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