The day is cold, and dark, and dreary;
It rains, and the wind is never weary;
The vine still clings to the mouldering wall,
But at every gust the dead leaves fall,
    And the day is dark and dreary!

My life is cold, and dark, and dreary;
It rains, and the wind is never weary;
My thoughts still cling to the mouldering Past,
But the hopes of youth fall thick in the blast,
    And the days are dark and dreary.

Be still, sad heart! and cease repining;
Behind the clouds is the sun still shining;
Thy fate is the common fate of all,
Into each life some rain must fall,
    Some days must be dark and dreary.

AN APRIL DAY

      When the warm sun, that brings
Seed-time and harvest, has returned again,
’Tis sweet to visit the still wood, where springs
      The first flower of the plain.

      I love the season well,
When forest glades are teeming with bright forms,
Nor dark and many-folded clouds foretell
      The coming-on of storms.

      From the earth’s loosened mould
The sapling draws its sustenance, and thrives;
Though stricken to the heart with winter’s cold,
      The drooping tree revives.

      The softly-warbled song
Comes from the pleasant woods, and colored wings
Glance quick in the bright sun, that moves along
      The forest openings.

      When the bright sunset fills
The silver woods with light, the green slope throws
Its shadows in the hollows of the hills,
      And wide the upland glows.

      And when the eve is born,
In the blue lake the sky, o’er-reaching far,
Is hollowed out, and the moon dips her horn,
      And twinkles many a star.

      Inverted in the tide,
Stand the gray rocks, and trembling shadows throw,
And the fair trees look over, side by side,
      And see themselves below.

      Sweet April!—­many a thought
Is wedded unto thee, as hearts are wed;
Nor shall they fail, till, to its autumn brought,
      Life’s golden fruit is shed.

RAIN IN SUMMER

How beautiful is the rain! 
After the dust and heat,
In the broad and fiery street,
In the narrow lane,
How beautiful is the rain!

How it clatters along the roofs,
Like the tramp of hoofs! 
How it gushes and struggles out
From the throat of the overflowing spout!

Across the window pane
It pours and pours;
And swift and wide,
With a muddy tide,
Like a river down the gutter roars
The rain, the welcome rain!
             * * * *
In the country, on every side,
Where far and wide,
Like a leopard’s tawny and spotted hide,
Stretches the plain,
To the dry grass and the drier grain
How welcome is the rain!
             * * * *