Elm City, by Herbert Randall

"A song-sparrow waited till late with its lay, then mingling, as sunshine and rain, his sweet vesper warble from birches and oak, fused thankfulness over the plain; the lashes of evening drooped over the blue; The lights from a train rumbled by; but day was at rest, as by mother-heart blest, a crescent-moon love-watching nigh. The picture returns like a vision from Faust, dissolves in the mem'ry of night."