I
Around, the stillness deepened; then the grain
Went wild with wind; and every briery lane
Was swept with dust; and then, tempestuous black,
Hillward the tempest heaved a monster back,
That on the thunder leaned as on a cane;
And on huge shoulders bore a cloudy pack,
That gullied gold from many a lightning crack:
One great drop splashed and wrinkled down the pane,
And then field, hill, and wood were lost in rain.
II
At last, through clouds,—as from a cavern hewn
Into night’s heart,—the sun burst, angry roon;
And every cedar, with its weight of wet,
Against the sunset’s fiery splendor set,
Startled to beauty, seemed with rubies strewn:
Then in drenched gardens, like sweet phantoms met,
Dim odors rose of pink and mignonette;
And in the east a confidence, that soon
Grew to the calm assurance of the moon.