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DARK clouds rolled across the summer morning,
Like a cloak the mist spread o'er the earth;
But though rain and storm the clouds were warning,
Up Monadnock's side we climbed in mirth.
Through the pasture and the woodland winding,
Onward led the path, and, higher still,
Scattered rocks alone and boulders finding,
Round us blew the mountain-wind so chill.
But when faintly, on the gale, the clashing
Of a village bell tolled out the noon,
Brighter seemed the light the sun was flashing,
Fresher the breeze that swept the clouds, and soon,
Like grim warders from a smoke-girt tower,
Looked we down, and there far, far beneath,
Where a rift was made by the wind's power,
Saw a little strip of mountain-heath.
That was all, - some rods of upland clearing
And a few pines upon the mountain-side,
But in that one spot, through clouds appearing,
Full promise was there of the landscape wide.
As on watchers by a dear friend dying
Bright the radiance from the face so fond,
Lifting up the hearts in grief low lying
With a glimpse of the great joy beyond.
And to us was vision, not immortal,
But stretching far to the horizon's girth;
Through clouds that changing formed in arch and portal
Looked we down on God's sun-lighted earth.
H. S. F.
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