For when the cloud has passed the sun,
The green fields smile with joy elate,
As the world had put new glory on.
And so, to me, they chant a strain
Uncomprehended by the sense,
But when they dash the window-pane,
I feel their soothing influence.
They lead me back to some bright scene,
Some fair spot in the shadowy past,
Which glows like the broad moon’s silver sheen