After The Thunderstorm

By James Thomson

As from the face of heaven the shattered clouds
Tumultuous rove, the interminable sky
Sublimer swells, and o’er the world expands
A purer azure.
Through the lightened air
A higher luster and a clearer calm,
Diffusive, tremble; while, as if in sign
Of danger past, a glittering robe of joy,
Set off abundant by the yellow ray,
Invests the fields; and nature smiles revived.
‘T is beauty all, and grateful song around,
Joined to the low of kine, and numerous bleat
Of flocks thick-nibbling through the clovered vale:
And shall the hymn be marred by thankless man,
Most favored; who, with voice articulate,
Should lead the chorus of this lower world?
Shall man, so soon forgetful of the Hand
That hushed the thunder, and serenes the sky,
Extinguished fed that spark the tempest waked,
That sense of powers exceeding far his own,
Ere yet his feeble heart has lost its fears?

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