I bring fresh showers for the thirsting flowers,
From the seas and the streams;
I bear light shade for the leaves when laid
In their noonday dreams.
From my wings are shaken the dews that waken
The sweet buds every one,
When rocked to rest on their mother's breast,
As she dances about the sun.
I wield the flail of the lashing hail,
And whiten the green plains under,
And then again I dissolve it in rain,
And laugh as I pass in thunder.
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The low'ring element
Scowls o'er the darken'd landscape.
The low'ring element
Scowls o'er the darken'd landscape.
So when the sun in bed,
Curtain'd with cloudy red,
Pillows his chin upon an orient wave.
So when the sun in bed,
Curtain'd with cloudy red,
Pillows his chin upon an orient wave.
If woolly fleeces spread the heavenly way
No rain, be sure, disturbs the summer's day.
If woolly fleeces spread the heavenly way
No rain, be sure, disturbs the summer's day.
How it pours, pours, pours,
In a never-ending sheet!
How it drives beneath the doors!
read more
How it pours, pours, pours,
In a never-ending sheet!
How it drives beneath the doors!
How it soaks the passer's feet!
How it rattles on the shutter!
How it rumples up the lawn!
How 'twill sigh, and moan, and mutter,
From darkness until dawn.
Who covereth thyself with light as a garment: who stretchest out
the heavens like a curtain:
Who layeth read more
Who covereth thyself with light as a garment: who stretchest out
the heavens like a curtain:
Who layeth the beams of his chambers in the waters: who maketh
the clouds his chariot: who walketh upon the wings of the wind:
Who maketh his angels spirits: his ministers a flaming fire:
Who laid the foundations of the earth, that it should not be
removed for ever.
I know Sir John will go, though he was sure it would rain cats
and dogs.
I know Sir John will go, though he was sure it would rain cats
and dogs.
The day is cold, and dark, and dreary;
It rains, and the wind in never weary;
The read more
The day is cold, and dark, and dreary;
It rains, and the wind in never weary;
The vine still clings to the mouldering wall,
But at every gust the dead leaves fall,
And the day is dark and dreary.
Were I a cloud I'd gather
My skirts up in the air,
And fly well know whither,
read more
Were I a cloud I'd gather
My skirts up in the air,
And fly well know whither,
And rest I well know where.
Was I deceiv'd, or did a sable cloud
Turn forth her silver lining on the night?
Was I deceiv'd, or did a sable cloud
Turn forth her silver lining on the night?
