AFTER THE RAIN.
91
And through the fleecy veil of mist
The sun bursts into view.
The sun bursts into view.
The wide fields stretch toward the sea,
Fragrant with clover scent;
The lilacs and the appleblooms
In one sweet mass are blent,
And in the east a bow of Hope
Climbs toward the firmament.
Fragrant with clover scent;
The lilacs and the appleblooms
In one sweet mass are blent,
And in the east a bow of Hope
Climbs toward the firmament.
The brooks leap down the rocky steeps,
White as the winter snow,—
Their dreamy voices singing us
Airs of the long ago;
And blood-red on the garden wall
The damask roses glow.
White as the winter snow,—
Their dreamy voices singing us
Airs of the long ago;
And blood-red on the garden wall
The damask roses glow.
Upon the elm-tree by the well,
The robin calls his mate,—
Who with her swelling amber breast
Coquettes upon the gate:
Poor little robin! he, like us,
Must be content to wait.
The robin calls his mate,—
Who with her swelling amber breast
Coquettes upon the gate:
Poor little robin! he, like us,
Must be content to wait.
Below the meadows in the grove,
The sweetly subtle still
Is broken by the plaintive voice
Of a lone whip-poor-will;
And harshly sounds from up the stream
The whistle of the mill.
The sweetly subtle still
Is broken by the plaintive voice
Of a lone whip-poor-will;
And harshly sounds from up the stream
The whistle of the mill.
The air is soft, and bland, and moist,
Coming from some south shore,—
Coming from some south shore,—
