The Storm.

Like tears of anger, raindrops chase
In cascades down the mountain's face,
While loudly thunder-claps applaud
Each fla'shtng thrust from lightning's sword.
Fierce gales with shrieking laughter mock.
And wildly race from rock to rock;
Then on through moaning tree-tops tear,
Like cruel comb in tangled hair.
Strong boughs as wrestlers twist and strain,
Are parted to attack again.
An aged monarch overthrown
Is hurled to earth with dying groan.
And proudly waving tussock grass
Bows low to let the tyrant pass—
Then suddenly as anger dies—
The lowering frown lifts from the skies.
A breathless stillness holds a while—
Then earth's scarred face’ lights with a smile.
The sun has raised a healing hand,
And arched the sky with rainbowband.

—E.K.M.T.