It must have been a wonderful night,
If judged by the results seen at first light.

Color was splashed about with zest and abandon
But nothing had been done as if it were random.
The pinks washed across the library slope
Spoke of beauty, of birth and a wellspring of hope;
And yellow was used as delightful surprise,
Perched here and there, a joy to one’s eyes.

Softening all edges and corners and blocks
And even half-hiding the cracks and the rocks,
Were greens of every conceivable hue,
Foreground and background, from moss to green-blue.

Starry sparkles of violet, of orange and of rose
Were sprinkled, til nothing was left in repose.

What satisfaction, what joy, if you please,
The Artist must gain from his masterpiece
For millions exclaimed, remarked, and appreciated
The overnight landscape that had been created.

Ethel L. Ingalls