The Earth Laments for Day
There’s music wafting on the air,The evening winds are sighingAmong the trees—and yonder streamIs mournfully replying,Lamenting loud the sunny lightThat in the west is dying.
The moon is rising o’er the hill,Her slanting rays are creepingWhere Nature lies profoundly stillIn happy quiet sleeping,And resting on her face, they’ll findThe earth is wet with weeping.
She mourneth for the lovely day,Now deep in darkness shaded;She sheds the dewy tear becauseOf morning’s mantle faded;She misses from her breast the garbIn which the moon array’d it.
The evening queen will strive in vainTo break the spell which bound her;A million stars can never throwDeparted warmth around her;They all must pass away and leaveThe earth as they had found her.
But why should gentle Nature weepThat night has overtakenThe wearied world that needed sleep,Refreshed to re-awaken,So richer light might burst around,The gloomy shadows breaking?
Oh, can she not from yonder skyThat gleams above her, borrowA single ray, or find a wayTo check the tear of sorrow?A beam of hope would last her tillThe dawning of to-morrow.