A wind came out of the Moon's clear heart,
Straight and soft in my face it blew;
It was not cold, but it made me start,
And think of something new.
What is coming? A thunder-cloud
To cover the wild, white sky
With a great procession purple and proud,
And a whirlwind flashing by?
It is only the tender, musical rain
Coming to comfort earth again!
Hark, it is here! There's joy, indeed,
And work in the deeps below;
Every drop finds out a seed,
And tells it how to grow.
The fever of the grass is heal'd,
The thirsty roots revive,
A whisper runs about the field,
That daisies are alive;
All make ready a glad surprise
For anxious Day's returning eyes.
Little he thought when he went to rest
What Night was going to do!
He had been watching a world oppress'd,
And now all things are new.
Now let him shine with all his might
On river and plain and bough,
Eyes that wearily ached last night
Will only glitter now.
Day, you never can last too long—
Day, you are welcome, for Earth is strong!
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