Five Art Songs

The day is cold, and dark, and dreary ;
It rains and the wind is never weary;
The vine still clings to the mouldr'ng wall,
But at every gust the dead leaves fall,
  And the day is [dark]1 and dreary.

My life is cold, and dark, and dreary;
It  rains and the wind is never weary;
My thoughts still cling to the mould'ring Past,
But the hopes of youth fall thick in the blast,
  And the days are [dark]1 and dreary.

Be still, sad heart!  and cease repining;
Behind the clouds is the sun still shining;
Thy fate is the common fate of all,
Into each life some rain must fall,
  Some days must be dark and dreary.

We met by chance this man and I
he looking seeking straining to communicate
and finding few who cared to listen
We met by chance this man and I
I listened and found pleasure in his words.

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In a single file, my brain has set a list of things I’ll not forget;
A sudden rain on roof or barn,
The grayness on a bark of Beech.
Some cowbells
Heard through morning fog;
The barking of a country dog that knows no fright,
And yet must talk back
To the night
I’ll not forget the woodsmoke smell of pine,
Or the cowbird when the hay was new.
I’ll not forget the thrill of Love or you!