SHIMMERING o'er the fleecy heavens Evening's shadows dimly fly, Rushing now like armies driven,— Vanishing as quickly by. Even so the hopes once cherished Thus like shadows now are flown; Undeservedly they perished,— Shall they never more return? Lo! the clouds are darkly bending O'er the gloomy winter sky; Never more shall light, descending, Gleam above their sable dye. List! methinks I hear a murmur Stealing softly to my heart; Yes, 'tis whispering of the summer That shall bid those clouds depart.
