"May is here, sweet 'Mois de Marie,' but my sky is
overcast!"—ST. GERMAN.

The hush of twilight, fair and still
Great cloud-ranks, bright with gorgeous dyes
That linger in the Western skies,
Ere Night's deep gloom steals o'er the hill.
The wind sighs softly round the eaves,
The May's fresh sweetness fills the air,
And Peace seems hovering everywhere.
Oh, restless heart, that aches and grieves!—
Grieves when the earth is bright and green,
And Summer's balmy breeze and flowers
Are brightening, charming all the hours
That span the long, long "bridge between"
Dear hopes and their fruition, laid
In many a way, by human plan.
But ah! these dream-world thoughts of man
Soon, soon can droop, and blight and fade!

We know 'tis best. Then wherefore try
To ask whence come the darksome clouds?
We know 'tis God's own hand that shroud
Our coming days in mysteries.
"A little while," and there is room
In that bright, blessed land above,
To see, and feel, and taste the love
That sends us now the clouds and gloom.
Why come the clouds? God only knows
Why human hearts need pain and woe;
But Faith's glad gleams still come and go,
Like sunbeams flashing on the snows
Of earth's dark winter-time, and He
Shall smile at last, and frosts shall melt,
And heavenly sunshine shall be felt
When Time fades in Eternity