Dark, drear, and drizzly, with vapor grizzly,
The day goes dully unto its close;
Its wet robe smutches each thing it touches,
Its fingers sully and wreck the rose.
Around the railing and garden-paling
The dripping lily hangs low its head:
A brood-mare whinnies; and hens and guineas
Droop, damp and chilly, beneath the shed.
In splashing mire about the byre
The cattle huddle, the farmhand plods;
While to some neighbor's a wagon labors
Through pool and puddle and clay that clods.
The day, unsplendid, at last is ended,
Is dead and buried, and night is come;
Night, blind and footless, and foul and fruitless,
With weeping wearied and sorrow dumb.
Ah, God! for thunder! for winds to sunder
The clouds and o'er us smite rushing bars!
And through wild masses of storm, that passes,
Roll calm the chorus of moon and stars.
His genius knows no bounds! The gloom of a wet dreary day is described by his masterly paintbrush and then he closes with a flaming desire for a thunder and lightning storm! I am delighted with his mind and his poetry!
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
.....ohh such a beautiful ending to a dark and dreary day ★ Roll calm the chorus of moon and stars ★