Behold when skies are torn by trebled thunder, And daytime, foul with fury, seemeth night, Across the path of clashing hail there cometh The long-enduring sun's benignant light, And archeth over earth a beauteous halo, Which lusting hands all restlessly beseech— A silent, sevenfold wonder, out of chaos, The radiant rainbow bends, God's law to teach. Yea, clouds drop sweet distilment in their anger, And craving earth doth find her latter rain; Though needles of the frost seem, plied with blighting, They clothe with autumn splendor wood and plain; And nothing fails nor fades apart from being, Life's law of recompense hath countless signs,— The shriek of desert wind at length becometh The soft, balm-breathing discourse of the pines.
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