After Storm

Great clouds of sullen seal and gold Bar bleak the tawny west, From which all day the-thunder rolled, And storm streamed, crest on crest. Now silvery in its deeps of bronze The new moon fills its sphere; And point by point the darkness dons Its pale stars there and here. But still behind the moon and stars, The peace of heaven, remains Suspicion of the wrath that wars, That Nature now restrains. As, lined 'neath tiger eyelids, glare The wild-beast eyes that sleep, So smoulders in its sunset lair The rage that rent the deep.