Last night a storm had swept,
O'er sea and land, and left
Some tokens on the beach;
Whilst on the smiling peaceful land,
Some broken boughs and drifted sand,
And the cottage bright of thatch;
Whilst in the meadows lie the flowers,
Mingled with blossoms from the bowers—
Crushed and strewn!
And on the rocks the hearttongue fern
Hangs low her head, and to discern
Her many broken stems;
The lark in sky gives melody
To sooth the grief, and for to see
Those remnants of her joy.
The sky is dark save where
Some fleecy cloud is there
To show a contrast,
And the distant hills are crowned,
For on their summits frown
The lowing cloud,
To hide her head of rocky chieff,
And in the evening then to lift
And disappear.
To paint her to the waters low,
From setting sun in golden glow,
To ask forgiveness.
The fern is sparkling with the dew,
And nods her head to storm adieu,
And smiles with moistened eye.
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The flowers bloom and lift their heads,
In wood and meadows mossy bed,
To taunt defiance.
Birds give song to join life's tale,
In plain or wood with nightingale—
'Tiru tiru troo' to you,
All nature smiles the time beguile,
All round that are till on the dial
No shadows seen;
But still a silence then is born,
For bat and owl are now forlorn,
And nature sleeps.
Sleeps from the stormy winds,
Sleeps when the sunset finds,
Sleep with you.
Those flowers in dew all earth's from view,
The silence says adieu to you,
One knows 'tis true,
That the storm has past what storm can last
To bind all nature in her throes has past,
To hush their song.