Return now to your rest, my weary soul,
Older than you ought to be, it’s seeming:
I know you feel right now there is a hole,
That there’s evil all around you teeming,
Yet one who’s mighty promises great things,
Turning nightmares into peaceful dreaming.
So listen to how beautiful Hope sings!
Listen to the voice so shy and quiet,
Yet promises it sings are as gold rings,
When discouragement intrudes, defy it.
I read this poem after a feverish fitful night of dreams in broken Spanish (my second language), and my spirit was immediately soothed.