Selections from the American poets
William Cullen Bryant



THE rain is o'er. How dense and bright
Yon pearly clouds reposing lie!
Cloud above cloud, a glorious sight,
Contrasting with the dark blue sky!
In grateful silence, earth receives
The general blessing; fresh and fair,
Each flower expands its little leaves,
As glad the common joy to share.
The soften'd sunbeams pour around
A fairy light, uncertain, pale;
The wind flows cool; the scented ground
Is breathing odours on the gale.
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Mid yon rich clouds' voluptuous pile,
Methinks some spirit of the air
Might rest, to gaze below a while,
Then turn to bathe and revel there.
The sun breaks forth; from off the scene
Its floating veil of mist is flung;
And all the wilderness of green
With trembling drops of light is hung.
Now gaze on Nature—yet the same—
Glowing with life, by breezes fann'd,
Luxuriant, lovely, as she came,
Fresh in her youth, from God's own hand.
Hear the rich music of that voice,
Which sounds from all below, above;
She calls her children to rejoice,
And round them throws her arms of love.
Drink in her influence; lowborn Care,
And all the train of mean Desire,
Refuse to breathe this holy air,
And mid this living light expire.