Classic Poem

It is a gay and glittering cloud,
Born in the early light of day,
It lies upon the gentle hills,
Rosy, and sweet, and far away.

It burns again when noon is high;
Like molten gold 't is clothed in light,
'T is beautiful and glad as love,—
A joyous, soul-entrancing sight.

But now 't is fading in the west,
On the flowering heaven a withered leaf,
As faint as shadow on the grass
Thrown by a gleam of moonshine brief.

So life is born, grows up, and dies,
As cloud upon the world of light;
It comes in joy, and moves in love,
Then,—gently fades away in night.