After a Tempest

It was a scene of peace—and, like a spell,

Did that serene and golden sunlight fall

Upon the motionless wood that clothed the fell,

And precipice upspringing like a wall,

And glassy river and white waterfall,

And happy living things that trod the bright

And beauteous scene; while far beyond them all,

On many a lovely valley, out of sight,

Was poured from the blue heavens the same soft golden light.

I looked, and thought the quiet of the scene

An emblem of the peace that yet shall be,

When, o'er earth's continents and isles between,

The noise of war shall cease from sea to sea,

And married nations dwell in harmony;

When millions, crouching in the dust to one,

No more shall beg their lives on bended knee,

Nor the black stake be dressed, nor in the sun

The o'erlabored captive toil, and wish his life were done.

Too long, at clash of arms amid her bowers

And pools of blood, the earth has stood aghast,

The fair earth, that should only blush with flowers

And ruddy fruits; but not for aye can last

The storm, and sweet the sunshine when 'tis past.

Lo, the clouds roll away—they break—they fly,

And, like the glorious light of summer, cast

O'er the wide landscape from the embracing sky,

On all the peaceful world the smile of heaven shall lie.