I Am Like One That Has Sat Alone by Robert Louis Stevenson

I am like one that has sat alone / All day on a level plain, / With drooping head and trailing arms / In a ceaseless pour of rain --

With drooping head and nerveless arms / On the moorland flat and gray, / Till the clouds were severed suddenly / About the end of day; / And the purple fringes of the rain / Rose o'er the scarlet west, / And the birds sang in the soddened furze, / And my heart sang in my breast.