After The Storm

O turquoise morn! Had earth a sorrow? The happy larks, sing they To-day or yesterday, Or some enchanted morrow And winds unborn?

To slopes of green, Only the brook can tell-- In low, elusive tones On smooth and fluting stones-- Where flow the rains that fell By night, unseen.

Ghost-moon, what way Wouldst thou be riding? On day’s blue diamond Thou art a flaw! Beyond, I know, the stars are hiding, Ere dusk betray.

I would not see; For now the day is new, And now a yellow flow’r Suffices to the hour-- That, and a star of dew It hoards for me.