Classic Poem

That day whereon I die they 'll say,
“How bright doth shine the sun!
A little cloud hath flown away,
Its race with darkness done.

“A little cloud hath fallen in tears,
That covered up the morn:
See now the earth sky-beauty wears
And starry flowers are born.

“See now the earth fresh-clad, arrayed
In robes that bear the rose;
A little stormy cloud that strayed
Now homeward, homeward goes.”

Yea, of my journey o'er the skies,
My flight unto the flowers,
I pray more beauty shall arise,
I pray more light be yours.