Oh, you had to say Wordsworth! Here is the sky after storm from The Excursion:

      A single step, that freed me from the skirts               830
          Of the blind vapour, opened to my view
          Glory beyond all glory ever seen
          By waking sense or by the dreaming soul!
          The appearance, instantaneously disclosed,
          Was of a mighty city--boldly say
          A wilderness of building, sinking far
          And self-withdrawn into a boundless depth,
          Far sinking into splendour--without end!
          Fabric it seemed of diamond and of gold,
          With alabaster domes, and silver spires,                   840
          And blazing terrace upon terrace, high
          Uplifted; here, serene pavilions bright,
          In avenues disposed; there, towers begirt
          With battlements that on their restless fronts
          Bore stars--illumination of all gems!
          By earthly nature had the effect been wrought
          Upon the dark materials of the storm
          Now pacified; on them, and on the coves
          And mountain-steeps and summits, whereunto
          The vapours had receded, taking there                      850
          Their station under a cerulean sky.
          Oh, 'twas an unimaginable sight!
          Clouds, mists, streams, watery rocks and emerald turf,
          Clouds of all tincture, rocks and sapphire sky,
          Confused, commingled, mutually inflamed,
          Molten together, and composing thus,
          Each lost in each, that marvellous array
          Of temple, palace, citadel, and huge
          Fantastic pomp of structure without name,
          In fleecy folds voluminous, enwrapped.                     860
          Right in the midst, where interspace appeared
          Of open court, an object like a throne
          Under a shining canopy of state
          Stood fixed; and fixed resemblances were seen
          To implements of ordinary use,
          But vast in size, in substance glorified;
          Such as by Hebrew Prophets were beheld
          In vision--forms uncouth of mightiest power
          For admiration and mysterious awe.
          This little Vale, a dwelling-place of Man,                 870
          Lay low beneath my feet; 'twas visible--
          I saw not, but I felt that it was there.
          That which I 'saw' was the revealed abode
          Of Spirits in beatitude: my heart
          Swelled in my breast--'I have been dead,' I cried,
          'And now I live! Oh! wherefore 'do' I live?'
          And with that pang I prayed to be no more!

This is just great.

Creative corner is alive again.

Thank you!