Thomas Bailey Aldrich

Upon the cunning loom of thought
We weave our fancies, so and so.

Upon the cunning loom of thought
We weave our fancies, so and so.

We knew it would rain, for the poplars showed
The white of their leaves, the amber grain
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We knew it would rain, for the poplars showed
The white of their leaves, the amber grain
Shrunk in the wind,--and the lightning now
Is tangled in tremulous skeins of rain.

What is lovely never dies,
But passes into other loveliness,
Star-dust, or sea-foam, flower or winged air.

What is lovely never dies,
But passes into other loveliness,
Star-dust, or sea-foam, flower or winged air.

Only the sea intoning,
Only the wainscot-mouse,
Only the wild wind moaning
Over the read more

Only the sea intoning,
Only the wainscot-mouse,
Only the wild wind moaning
Over the lonely house.

Good night! I have to say good night,
To such a host of peerless things!

Good night! I have to say good night,
To such a host of peerless things!