AFTER THE RAIN
Far where the mountains rise, height on height,
The clouds are glowing with tropical light,
Glistening and shining with golden gleams,
As bright and transient as childhood's dreams;
The East making love to the West again,
With the sunbeams for messengers, after the rain.
The clouds are glowing with tropical light,
Glistening and shining with golden gleams,
As bright and transient as childhood's dreams;
The East making love to the West again,
With the sunbeams for messengers, after the rain.
High 'midst them all, with its seven-hued arch,
Fit pathway for sweet hopes like angels to march,
Is lifted the bow, a sure token from Heaven
That God's sunshine as well as his rain will be given.
His love and his watchcare prove ever the same,
His presence seems nearer, after the rain.
Fit pathway for sweet hopes like angels to march,
Is lifted the bow, a sure token from Heaven
That God's sunshine as well as his rain will be given.
His love and his watchcare prove ever the same,
His presence seems nearer, after the rain.
We gaze and we think of the story we heard
When life seemed all sunshine, and truth gemmed each word,
How the far reaching ends of the beautiful bow
Were upheld by treasures deep buried below;
And oft we were tempted to search o'er the plain
For gem-laden caskets, after the rain.
When life seemed all sunshine, and truth gemmed each word,
How the far reaching ends of the beautiful bow
Were upheld by treasures deep buried below;
And oft we were tempted to search o'er the plain
For gem-laden caskets, after the rain.
Thus ever we find when grief saddens our way,
That the storm-clouds of sorrow pass surely away
When the sunbeams of Faith cast their luminous light,
And Hope from above, like a bow-promise bright,
Tells of treasures unfading, sought never in vain,
And our hearts grow more tender, after the rain.
That the storm-clouds of sorrow pass surely away
When the sunbeams of Faith cast their luminous light,
And Hope from above, like a bow-promise bright,
Tells of treasures unfading, sought never in vain,
And our hearts grow more tender, after the rain.
37
