[SUNSET AFTER RAIN.]
BY ALFRED B. STREET.
All day, with humming and continuous sound,
Streaking the landscape, has the slant rain fall'n;
But now the mist is vanishing; in the west
The dull gray sheet, that shrouded from the sight
The sky, is rent in fragments, and rich streaks
Of tenderest blue are smiling through the clefts.
A dart of sunshine strikes upon the hills,
Then melts. The great clouds whiten, and roll off,
Until a steady blaze of golden light
Kindles the dripping scene. Within the east,
The delicate rainbow suddenly breaks out;
Soft air-breaths flutter round; each tree shakes down
A shower of glittering drops; the woodlands burst
Into a chorus of glad harmony;
And the rich landscape, full of loveliness,
Fades slowly, calmly, sweetly, into night.
Thus, sometimes, is the end of Human life.
In youth and manhood, sorrows may frown round;
But when the sun of Being lowly stoops,
The darkness breaks away—the tears are dried;
The Christian's hope—a rainbow—brightly glows,
And life glides sweet and tranquil to the tomb.