A SUMMER'S calm hangs o'er the sleeping land;

All nature's waiting in a breathless fear,

As if some portent, great and dread, were near;

When from the east and west, on either hand,

Rise rank on rank of clouds, a threatening band.


But once on high their lowering heads they rear,

And in a moment gather, burst, and clear,

Then rainbow hues in fair refulgence stand.

Life 's but a dream of some fair summer's day,

Ever expectant of some fearful close,

Till ruthless death asserts his powerful sway;

Death passed - the life triumphant over woes.

So shifts the scene as by some magic wand, -

First life - then death - and then the life beyond.

P. E.