THERE’S music wafting on the air, <br />The evening winds are sighing <br />Among the trees—and yonder stream <br />Is mournfully replying, <br />Lamenting loud the sunny light <br />That in the west is dying. <br /> <br />The moon is rising o’er the hill, <br />Her slanting rays are creeping <br />Where Nature lies profoundly still <br />In happy quiet sleeping, <br />And resting on her face, they’ll find <br />The earth is wet with weeping. <br /> <br />She mourneth for the lovely day, <br />Now deep in darkness shaded; <br />She sheds the dewy tear because <br />Of morning’s mantle faded; <br />She misses from her breast the garb <br />In which the moon array’d it. <br /> <br />The evening queen will strive in vain <br />To break the spell which bound her; <br />A million stars can never throw <br />Departed warmth around her; <br />They all must pass away and leave <br />The earth as they had found her. <br /> <br />But why should gentle Nature weep <br />That night has overtaken <br />The wearied world that needed sleep, <br />Refreshed to re-awaken, <br />So richer light might burst around, <br />The gloomy shadows breaking? <br /> <br />Oh, can she not from yonder sky <br />That gleams above her, borrow <br />A single ray, or find a way <br />To check the tear of sorrow? <br />A beam of hope would last her till <br />The dawning of to-morrow.<br /><br />Henry Kendall<br /><br />http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/the-earth-laments-for-day/
