WHEN will the day bring its pleasure?
When will the night bring its rest?
Reaper and gleaner and thresher
Peer toward the east and the west: —
The Sower He knoweth, and He knoweth best.
Meteors flash forth and expire,
Northern lights kindle and pale;
These are the days of desire,
Of eyes looking upward that fail;
Vanishing days as a finishing tale.
Bows down the crop in its glory
Tenfold, fifty-fold, hundred-fold ;
The millet is ripened and hoary,
The wheat ears are ripened to gold : —
Why keep us waiting in dimness and cold?