Author Sir Charles G. D. Roberts At evening, when the noise of life is done, And Earth lets fall her labors with the sun,And calls her children, weary with their play, In from the busy tumult one by one,How tenderly the heat and hurts of dayShe washes in her infinite baths away! Tags Short Poems Rate this poem Select ratingGive it 1/5Give it 2/5Give it 3/5Give it 4/5Give it 5/5 No votes yet Rate Log in or register to post comments