Standing in close formation as they have stood for centuries, Each separate rock in its setting like stones in a colorful necklace, Yet merging into the solid wall as done by the Master Builder, Invincible, grim, unscalable, a sentinel guarding the canyon; Towering over the chasm below, omnipotent in the silence Broken only by voices of birds and the murmuring sound of the streamlet. Fed by a tiny spring far up near the head of the canyon, Under the dark-fringed rim, the brook has the source of its being; Swelled to a roar is its song, when the clouds, black-browed and impatient, Gather their forces above, with muttering thunder and lightning, Blotting the sunshine out; and then o'er the darkening landscape Open their fountain heads, and hurl down their torrents of water. Now is the tempest over; and on the wet face of the rimrock, Standing in beauty renewed, and refreshed by the sluice of the downpour, Fall with revealing splendor the rays of returning sunshine. Twitters of birds are heard, reappearing from out their hiding, While on the air is spreading the fragrance of rain-wet pine trees, And the retreating storm-clouds are vanishing far in the distance. | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...RESOLUTION OF A POETICAL QUESTION CONCERNING FOUR RURAL SISTERS: 2 by CHARLES COTTON A BALLAD OF THE FRENCH FLEET; OCTOBER, 1746 by HENRY WADSWORTH LONGFELLOW HOURS OF RECREATION by LEVI BISHOP THE PASSIONATE SHEPHERD: AGLAIA. A PASTORAL by NICHOLAS BRETON THE PROPHECY: 3. TO ANOTHER LADY by LUCRETIA MARIA DAVIDSON |