Fraught with a transient, frozen shower,
If a cloud should haply lower,
Sailing o’er the landscape dark,
Mute on a sudden is the lark;
But when gleams the sun again
O’er the pearl-besprinkled plain,
And from behind his watery vail,
Looks through the thin descending hail;
She mounts, and, lessening to the sight,
Salutes the blithe return of light;