The Summer Shower

White haze glimmered on the hills, The vales were parched and dry, And glaringly the burning sun Coursed in the summer sky. The cattle, in the distant woods. Sought shelter from its beams. Or, motionless and patient stood, Knee-deep, amid the streams. The house-dog lay with panting breath Close where the elm-trees grew; The bluebird and the oriole To shady coverts flew. Day after clay the thirsty earth Looked up to heaven for rain; The gardens held their flower- cups, The fields their lips of grain. With doubting hearts, men, murmuring, said, ' Our toils have been in vain; We sowed in spring, but shall not reap When autumn comes again.' But while they spoke, within the west, At sunset's glowing hour, God's voice proclaimed in thunder tones The coming of the shower! The deepening shadows slowly crept O'er mountain and o'er plain, Until in cool and copious floods Came down the blessed rain. All nature smiled; and when at last The cloudy wings were furled, The evening star shone regally Above a thankful world. O love of Heaven! O fear of man! O faith so cold and dim! When shall we own the ways of God, And learn to trust in him?