Across the silent, purple hills,

Through cloudy rifts of amethyst,

The setting sun softly thrills,

And wraps the world in amber mist.

A new, fresh world it seems tonight,

Untouched by any thought of woe.

I stand alone, and from my height

Watch the rich colorings come and go—

On village spires silvery white,

On windows touched to ruddy glow,

On nearer stream, that glistens bright

Along its winding, shadowed flow.

How calm it is! And yet, in truth,

One hour ago a wild storm swept

These hills and valleys; while in ruth

The world was bowed, the heavens wept.

But now what change! The golden mist

Creeps over hill and sky again;

The smiling valleys, sunset kissed,

Catch God’s “clear shining after rain.”

So sends He storm to every heart;

No perfect peace but comes through pain.

We can but calmly take our part,

And wait “clear shining after rain.”