After a Tempest

The day had been a day of wind and storm;—

The wind was laid, the storm was overpast,—

And stooping from the zenith, bright and warm

Shone the great sun on the wide earth at last.

I stood upon the upland slope and cast

My eye upon a broad and beauteous scene,

Where the vast plain lay girt by mountains vast,

And hills o'er hills lifted their heads of green,

With pleasant vales scooped out and villages between.

The rain-drops glistened on the trees around,

Whose shadows on the tall grass were not stirred,

Save when a shower of diamonds, to the ground,

Was shaken by the flight of startled bird;

For birds were warbling round, and bees were heard

About the flowers; the cheerful rivulet sung

And gossiped, as he hastened ocean-ward;

To the gray oak the squirrel, chiding clung,

And chirping from the ground the grasshopper upsprung.

And from beneath the leaves that kept them dry

Flew many a glittering insect here and there,

And darted up and down the butterfly,

That seemed a living blossom of the air.

The flocks came scattering from the thicket, where

The violent rain had pent them; in the way

Strolled groups of damsels frolicksome and fair;

The farmer swung the scythe or turned the hay,

And 'twixt the heavy swaths his children were at play.