Poems (Holmes)/Written after a Storm
Written after a Storm.
The dark cloud is past, the wild storm is o'er,And the thunder's loud crash re-echoes no more;And the ocean's proud billows, that rolled mountain-high,Now calm on its breast all motionless lie.
The bark that by waves was tossed to and fro,Again spreads its sails to the fathomless blue; And the bright orb of day, that vanished awhile,Is cheering the earth again with its smile.
And rude boisterous winds, that howled through green trees,Are now giving place to a soft summer breeze;And birds, to the mountains for refuge that flew,Are warbling to God the praise to Him due.
And wild blooming flowers, that drank of the rain,Are shedding sweet perfume o'er dale, hill, and plain;And the large drops that fell, like tears from the sky,Now gem-like, embroider the beds where they lie.
The lowing of herds is passing away,And again on the hills the young lambs are at play,And the bee, that had ceased from his labors awhile,Is basking again in the sunbeam's smile.
Insects that thirsted, are filling the airWith songs of thanksgiving, for answer to prayer,And the earth's summer robe, that faded had been,Is turning again to a beautiful green.
Though wild was the tempest, and dark was the cloud,And harsh was the thunder that echoed so loud,Yet nature rejoices, since these are all past,And fear and dismay are now fled in the blast.