Dog Days Poem by Maria Frances Cecilia Cowper

The angry sun slow sinking in the west,
Casts one last lingering glance upon the earth
Which he has parched and withered all the day ;
And weary, worn out men prepare to rest
Where rest is none, and all glad sounds of mirth
Are hushed, and tired children cease their play.

At last the sun is down, and now the stars
Begin to peep with cruel, laughing eyes.
And mock the miseries of mirthless men.
The air is still as death, and no cloud mars
The pitiless perfection of the skies.
And night but tells the day's sad tale again.