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The Song of the Summer Cloud.
By W. M. MacKeracher
I am arrayed in light and shade,
A free-born spirit of air;
A fanciful theme like a twilight dream,
Or a maiden young and fair.
And now I float like a phantom boat
With a vague and varying hue,
Fading from sight in the beams of light
On an ocean clear and blue.
And now I am wooed by the wind so rude,
As he rushes in fury past,
Who his bride doth crown with a darkening frown
As I ride in the car of the blast.
And down I pour 'mid the thunder's roar
While the lightnings gleam and glare,
Till the floods resound as they burst their bound
And laugh at what man can dare.
And now he is flown and has left me alone
To brood in bereavement and woe,
And I hang like a pall while the rain-drops fall
Like tear-drops steady and slow.
But again he returns when my gloom he discerns,
And subdues his dark spirit of storms;
And the shower descends while the rainbow blends
And the sunshine brightens and warms.
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