William Wetmore Story (1819–1895)

AFTER long days of dull perpetual rain,

And from gray skies, the sun at last shines bright,

And all the sparkling trees are glad with light,

And all the happy world laughs out again;

The sorrow is forgotten, past the pain;

For nature has no memory, feels the blight

Of no regret, nor mars the day’s delight

With idle fears and hopes and longings vain.

Ah me! it is not so with us; the ghost

Of vanished joys pursues us everywhere;

We live as much in all that we have lost

As what we own; no present is so fair

That the best moment’s sunlight is not crossed

By shadowy shapes of hope, and fear, and care.