Classic Poem

Why should I think of dragging clouds,
Of dreary, dragging clouds of grey,
When I have seen them floating light,
Snow-mountains blazing soft and bright,
Or filmy feathers faint and white,
On many a bygone day?

Why should I think of sighing winds,
Of sighing winds that shake the rain,
When I've felt breezes fresh and clear
That sing forever past my ear,
And breaths of summer drifting near
O'er clover-fields and grain?

Why should I think of days like this,
Of days like this, all dark and wet,
When I've known days so grandly bright,
So full of freedom and delight,
That, though all after life were night,
I never can forget?