After Rain.

—E. Nesbit.

‘But it shall be one day which shall be known to the LORD, not day, nor night: but it shall come to pass, that at evening time it shall be light.’ —Zechariah 14:7.

GREY hills, grey water, and grey sky,

From which the rain dripped ceaselessly;

Gardens forlorn and dripping eaves,

And plash of rain on ivy leaves,

And winds that sigh through woodlands wet,

And breathe of loss and of regret.

 

It has been raining all the day,

The sun has worn a veil of grey,

The leaden sky was dully spread,

Like a grey curtain overhead.

It almost seems that hope is vain—

The sun will never shine again!

 

Yet see!—a light out in the west,

A gleam upon the river’s breast,

A flush of colour in the trees,

Hope laughs and wakes to welcome these:

A gleam of blue—a flash of sun;

The rain is done—the rain is done!

 

As some grey sea’s receding tide

Leaves the gold sand spread fair and wide,

So these clouds parting drift away,

And the gold shines where was the grey;

Brighter and brighter grows the west,

Where the gold sun sinks into rest.

 

And over all the level plain,

The joy of colour laughs again,

The sunlight on the raindrops gleams,

And turns the tears to rainbow dreams;

And past pain dies of new delight;

‘At evening time there shall be light.’

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