WHEN THE SUN COMES AFTER RAIN WHEN the sun comes after rain And the bird is in the blue, The girls go down the lane Two by two. When the sun comes after shadow And the singing of the showers, The girls go up the meadow, Fair as flowers. When the eve comes dusky red And the moon succeeds the sun, The girls go home to bed One by one. And when life draws to its even And the day of man is past, They shall all go home to heaven, Home at last. LATE, O MILLER LATE, O miller, The birds are silent, The darkness falls. In the house the lights are lighted. See, in the valley they twinkle, The lights of home. Late, O lovers, The night is at hand; Silence and darkness Clothe the land. TO FRIENDS AT HOME TO friends at home, the lone, the admired, the lost The gracious old, the lovely young, to May The fair, December the beloved, These from my blue horizon and green isles, These from this pinnacle of distances I, The unforgetful, dedicate. I, WHOM APOLLO SOMETIME VISITED I, WHOM Apollo sometime visited, Or feigned to visit, now, my day being done, Do slumber wholly; nor shall know at all The weariness of changes; nor perceive Immeasurable sands of centuries Drink of the blanching ink, or the loud sound Of generations beat the music down. TEMPEST TOSSED AND SORE AFFLICTED TEMPEST tossed and sore afflicted, sin defiled and care oppressed, Come to me, all ye that labour; come, and I will give ye rest. Fear no more, O doubting hearted; weep no more, O weeping eye! Lo, the voice of your redeemer; lo, the songful morning near. Here one hour you toil and combat, sin and suffer, bleed and die; In my father’s quiet mansion soon to lay your burden by. Bear a moment, heavy laden, weary hand and weeping eye. Lo, the feet of your deliverer; lo, the hour of freedom here. VARIANT FORM OF THE PRECEDING POEM COME to me, all ye that labour; I will give your spirits rest; Here apart in starry quiet I will give you rest. Come to me, ye heavy laden, sin defiled and care opprest, In your father’s quiet mansions, soon to prove a welcome guest. But an hour you bear your trial, sin and suffer, bleed and die; But an hour you toil and combat here in day’s inspiring eye. See the feet of your deliverer; lo, the hour of freedom nigh. I NOW, O FRIEND, WHOM NOISELESSLY THE SNOWS I NOW, O friend, whom noiselessly the snows Settle around, and whose small chamber grows Dusk as the sloping window takes its load: * * * * *