After the winter rain,
Sing robin! -sing, swallow!
Grasses are in the lane,
Buds and flowers will follow.
Woods shall ring, blith and gay,
With bird-trill and twitter,
Though the sky weep to-day,
And the winds are bitter.
Though deep call unto deep
As calls the thunder,
And white the billows leap
The tempest under;
Softly the waves shall come
Up the long, bright beaches,
With dainty flowers of foam
And tenderest speeches.
* * * * * *
After the wintery pain,
And the long, long sorrow,
Sing heart! -for thee again
Joy comes with the morrow.
