A redder lightning flits about,
But in the north a storm is rolled
That splits the gloom with vivid gold;
Dead silence, then a little sound,
The distance chokes the thunder down,
It shudders faintly in the town.
A fountain plashing in the dark
Keeps up a mimic dropping strain;
Ah! God, if it were really rain!
MEMORY
I see a schooner in the bay
Cutting the current into foam;
One day she flies and then one day
Comes like a swallow veering home.
I hear a water miles away
Go sobbing down the wooded glen;
One day it lulls and then one day
Comes sobbing on the wind again.
Remembrance goes but will not stay;
That cry of unpermitted pain
One day departs and then one day
Comes sobbing to my heart again.