And thus my madman's prayer will be repaid.
Laughter breaks forth again; the world is glad.
There's music in the very rocks to-day.
Yea, through my sullen bars the red sun peers
And stains my confines with his golden smile;
God shakes His happiness abroad to-day.
See, I will rake this yellow harvest home
And treasure it against a sadder hour,
When Winter's mantled all our stars in night.
When that shall be, I'll paint my walls with gold,