The Rain is Gone.

Look up, oh sorrowful eyes,
That wept through a weary night,
Hope smiles in the brightening skies,
And joy in the morning light.
Would you conquer the tyrant care,
And banish her doleful train?
Let nature with promise fair
Speak peace to the heart again.
Ah! tears may have fallen fast
O'er faces furrowed and wan,
But, lo! the winter is past
The rain is over and gone.
While deep in the forest thrills
The pulse of a fuller life,
Far out on the breezy hills
Sweet murmur and song are rife.
It is well if we likewise learn
To join in the hymn of praise,
And well if we trusting turn
Our thoughts to the brighter days,
Through clouds that were broadly cast
The covenant bow has shone,
And, lo! the winter is past
The rain is over and gone.
And even in dismal homes
That streets of the cities gird,
A breath of the country comes,
An echo of spring is heard.
In the flower-shops tenderly lie
Pale blossoms from field and dell,
And many who hasten by Will smile at the tale they tell,
Rejoicing that earth at last
Her raiment of light puts on,
For, lo! the winter is past,
The rain is over and gone.

—J. R. Hastings.