Night thundered down the valley

From off the rocky steeps,

Like wind it broke the silences

That light divinely keeps.

As low dark clouds concealing

The things one dare not see,

So grimly dark and ominous

Hung low each shadowy tree.

Night, the dread terror-master,

What wordless woe he weaves!

Suddenly peace, and all the air

Is scented with green leaves.