Classic Poem

I sat within a window, looking west,
On a fair autumn eve; the forest leaves
Moved o'er a fiery sunset, vision blest
After that day of storm and rainy eaves.
While thus I gazed, I heard a sweet voice cry:—
‘Come to the east, and see the rainbow die.
On the last shower anon the moon will rise,
And light the village when the rainbow dies.’
Betwixt the two I could not well decide;
For each was fair, and both would vanish soon.
But that sweet voice cried eastward still: I knew
No light would pierce the wood when day withdrew;
So I went east and to the rising moon
The village brighten'd when the rainbow died.