The joyous hour of Nature's grand triumph
That confirms Her reign and endless might
The most splendid hour when child is born
Why did that happen on the darkest night?

Was that cowardly Sun too afraid to come?
Was the dark shroud to thick to disperse?
Did you with all might fail to intervene?
Was it too hard to render the sky serene?

On the rainy night of the bleak september
The two smooth loving hands held me tight
Yet too fragile they were to give shelter
So doomed was the child to last in plight

Was your watchfulness for a while asleep?
Why have you forced me to worry and weep?
Were not your clothes in the while green?
Had for a mistake become my soul unclean?

Shall uncertainty always thus torment me?
May I ever leave this pit of my distress?
Nothing then I know except one sure thing 
Still I adore you in your mournful dress!