Page:After the Storm - G. Howell-Baker - The Glamorgan Gazette - 1894-06-15.jpg



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.

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.