| Hunt and Lee, comps. The Book of the Sonnet. 1867. | | | | III. A Calm after a Gale | | By David Lester Richardson (1801–1865) |
| | | THE MOUNTAIN mists now roll on sultry airs; | |
| Unheard and slow the huge waves heave around, | |
| That lately roared in wrath. The storm-fiend, bound | |
| Within his unseen cave, no longer tears | |
| The vexed and wearied main. The moon appears, | 5 |
| Uncurtaining wide her azure realms profound | |
| To cheer the sullen night. Though not a sound | |
| Reposing Nature breathes, my rapt soul hears | |
| The far-off murmur of my native streams, | |
| Like music from the stars. The silver tone | 10 |
| Is memory’s lingering echo. Ocean’s zone | |
| Infolds me from the past. This small bark seems | |
| The centre of the world,—an island lone; | |
| And love’s dear forms are like departed dreams. | | | | |
|
|
