Poems (Shipton)/The Morning Cloud
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THE MORNING CLOUD.
"Who maketh the clouds His chariots. . . . He watereth the hills from His chambers."—Ps. civ.
A storm cloud rose from its ocean-bed,
And as slowly it sailed along,
No rest it found on the beautiful earth;
It dimmed the smile of the morning's mirth,
The joy of the July song.
And as slowly it sailed along,
No rest it found on the beautiful earth;
It dimmed the smile of the morning's mirth,
The joy of the July song.
It seemed to mourn that the fair must fade
In the glow of the summer day:
It wept o'er the beauty it could not share;
Then on to the heavens,—its home was there,—
Its dark wings bore it away.
In the glow of the summer day:
It wept o'er the beauty it could not share;
Then on to the heavens,—its home was there,—
Its dark wings bore it away.
Over the meadows, and over the hills,
"Where many a shadow had flown,
There swept the cloud, with its gathering reef,
Borne wildly along by the wind's wild breath,
Alone—and a lonely one!
"Where many a shadow had flown,
There swept the cloud, with its gathering reef,
Borne wildly along by the wind's wild breath,
Alone—and a lonely one!
Its soft tears fell o'er the new-mown grass,
And brighter the green that it wore;
The water-lily her blossoms outspread,
And the drooping daisy upraised her head,
Refreshed from that heavenly store.
And brighter the green that it wore;
The water-lily her blossoms outspread,
And the drooping daisy upraised her head,
Refreshed from that heavenly store.
The parched earth drank up the crystal drops;
While the brook, with its gurgling rills,
Proclaimed that the cloud had not wept in vain;
For down in the valley it wandered again,
To sing of the God of the hills.
While the brook, with its gurgling rills,
Proclaimed that the cloud had not wept in vain;
For down in the valley it wandered again,
To sing of the God of the hills.
Then warbled the joyous birds in the brake,
For the shower so soft and cool;
The panting cattle, that seemed to sink
In the noontide stillness, have stooped to drink,
Mid-way in the glassy pool.
For the shower so soft and cool;
The panting cattle, that seemed to sink
In the noontide stillness, have stooped to drink,
Mid-way in the glassy pool.
The wild goat browsed on the herbage scant,
Where seldom a foot had trod;
In their rocky home gambolled the conies gray,
For the heaven-sent cloud had passed that way,
And they found their food from God.
Where seldom a foot had trod;
In their rocky home gambolled the conies gray,
For the heaven-sent cloud had passed that way,
And they found their food from God.
The moistened herb breathed its fragrant breath,
Where a traveller paused to gaze:
The dark cloud borrowed a light from the sky;
O'er the path where its shade had passed mournfully,
There echoed a song of praise.
Where a traveller paused to gaze:
The dark cloud borrowed a light from the sky;
O'er the path where its shade had passed mournfully,
There echoed a song of praise.
The black pall rolled o'er the rocky coast,
And parted before his eyes,
At the sunset hour: as flowers may bloom
From unsightly roots in the earth's dark womb,
It spread o'er the western skies.
And parted before his eyes,
At the sunset hour: as flowers may bloom
From unsightly roots in the earth's dark womb,
It spread o'er the western skies.
It gathered the rose of the ruby's rays,
And the violet's amethyst shade;
Then wrapped the hills in its amber fold,
And robed the valley in garments of gold,
By the sun's last beams arrayed.
And the violet's amethyst shade;
Then wrapped the hills in its amber fold,
And robed the valley in garments of gold,
By the sun's last beams arrayed.
And the traveller sighed for the cloudless land,
Till the glory of earth was dim;
Most precious of all in his home above
The Son of the Father, whose boundless love
Gave the Lord of that glory to him.
Till the glory of earth was dim;
Most precious of all in his home above
The Son of the Father, whose boundless love
Gave the Lord of that glory to him.
His soul sped on to his Father's house
Afar—to the City of Light,
"With its fair foundations and pearly gates,
Where Christ in the mansion His loved one waits,
In the day that hath no more night.
Afar—to the City of Light,
"With its fair foundations and pearly gates,
Where Christ in the mansion His loved one waits,
In the day that hath no more night.
He blessed the sorrow that darkened his day,
The cross it was his to bear;
It lifted from earth each low desire,
As the cloud of the morn was a chariot of fire,—
The fairest, where all is fair.
The cross it was his to bear;
It lifted from earth each low desire,
As the cloud of the morn was a chariot of fire,—
The fairest, where all is fair.
The cloud must come, and the tears will fall,
As God sendeth forth the rain;
The shadows are weaving the rainbow's zone,
And each bright ray is a lonely one,
Till gathered to heaven again.
As God sendeth forth the rain;
The shadows are weaving the rainbow's zone,
And each bright ray is a lonely one,
Till gathered to heaven again.