NOT for us the Sabbath of the quiet streets,
Sabbath, peaceful o’er the world outspread,
Felt where every man his neighbour greets,
Heard in hush of many a slowly passing tread.
Not the robe of silence for our holy day:
Noisy run the worker and the player;
Toil and stir and laughter of the way
Surge around the steps that seek a place of prayer.
Silent we, while through the thronging street and mart
Work-day clamour of the city rolls:
Cloistered inly, from the world apart,
Ours it is to bear the Sabbath in our souls.
NINA SALAMAN, 1918.