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.