The summer day was spoiled with fitful storm; At night the wind died and the soft rain dropped; With lulling murmur, and the air was warm, And all the tumult and the trouble stopped.
Sad soul, take comfort, nor forget That sunrise never failed us yet.
Already the dandelions Are changed into vanishing ghosts.
Across the narrow beach we flit, One little sand-piper and I;
The summer day was spoiled with fitful storm; At night the wind died and the soft rain dropped; With lulling murmur, and the air was warm, And all the tumult and the trouble stopped.