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He shall come down like rain upon the mown grass: as showers
that water the earth.
He shall come down like rain upon the mown grass: as showers
that water the earth.
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.
Be still, sad heart, and cease repining;
Behind the clouds the sun is shining;
Thy fate is read more
Be still, sad heart, and cease repining;
Behind the clouds the sun is shining;
Thy fate is the common fate of all,
Into each life some rain must fall,
Some days must be dark and dreary.
Far clouds of feathery gold,
Shaded with deepest purple, gleam
Like islands on a dark blue sea.
Far clouds of feathery gold,
Shaded with deepest purple, gleam
Like islands on a dark blue sea.
By unseen hand uplifted in the light
Of sunset, yonder solitary cloud
Floats, with its white apparel read more
By unseen hand uplifted in the light
Of sunset, yonder solitary cloud
Floats, with its white apparel blown abroad,
And wafted up to heaven.
And it can to pass at the seventh time, that he said, Behold,
there ariseth a little cloud out read more
And it can to pass at the seventh time, that he said, Behold,
there ariseth a little cloud out of the sea, like a man's hand.
And he said, Go up, say unto Ahab, Prepare thy chariot, and get
thee down, that the rain stop thee not.
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.
Clouds on clouds, in volumes driven,
Curtain round the vault of heaven.
Clouds on clouds, in volumes driven,
Curtain round the vault of heaven.
My prophecy is but half his journey yet,
For yonder walls, that pertly front your town,
Yon read more
My prophecy is but half his journey yet,
For yonder walls, that pertly front your town,
Yon towers, whose wanton tops do buss the clouds,
Must kiss their own feet.