All day the glory of the summer sun
Had streamed in radiant showers upon the earth,
And fruitful lands in their maturity
Had stretched out eager arms to catch and hold
The rain of light that overflowed the world.
When, at the end of day, the wearied sun
Had dropped behind the elms, whose reaching arms
Seemed loth to let the golden sunlight go,
And night had spread her dark wings in the sky,
There hovered in the dim, soft depths above
A million tiny star-drops, left behind
By the long golden rain of the sun's day.