Sun Shower.

Down through the still green gloom of archinp trees
A soakinp rainstorm endlessly descended;
Just where the tunnel of thick bushscrub ended,
Faint sunlight swam through liquid leafy seas.
On ancient tree-trunks towering to the sky—
Seeming too old to stand, too tired to fall
Primeval silence cast its heavy pall,
And ceaseless veils of rain went drifting by.
No buzz of summer bees, nor hopping thrush
Disturbed this paradise of green and gold;
But thick green ferns, a thousand ages old,
Shivered and wavered in the longdrawn hush.
Till one small bell-bird shook a tremulous throat,
Loosened linked echoes down the wet busli-floor;
It seemed no bird had ever sung before,
And F.den's peace was broken by one note!

—Dorothy I. Johnston.

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