Verse > Anthologies > Hunt and Lee, eds. > The Book of the Sonnet
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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.
 
 
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