How the hills have changed their faces
Since I saw them at the dawn,
When the sky was pale and empty
And the day was not yet born.
Now the night has called his children,
Moon and Stars, come crowned to reign,
And the dusk has brought the darkness
And the darkness brings the rain.
Though my view has slowly vanished
Like the faces in a dream,
And the brink of the horizon
Bears the last of daylight’s gleam.
Every day has its own glory
Every sunrise has its set,
So I watch the fading mountains
With no feeling of regret.
In the dark I hear the fingers
Of the rain against the glass,
As she leave her water touches
On window panes and grass.
How the wind now lifts her gently
With its wings of sea-born air,
In its feathers lies the moonlight
Sifting softly through her hair.
She will kiss the pink storm-lily
with the gift of silver dew,
And the face of every mountain
In the morning will be new.