a setting of the scene

under the longer sign we learn to speak
those matters that will justify our art
to find in every soul the better part
of all the good things that a mind might seek
we learn the beauty hidden by the bleak
and lowering sky beneath which swallows dart
there's still a sight here to rejoice the heart
as on the narrow road the cartwheels creak
no sound of bell across the mountain dale
to tell the time or warn us from our sleep
but hope of something that will make us bright
the law of life is not the finest tale
although the clouds across the evening creep
there is fine promise of calm in the night