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I bring fresh showers for the thirsting flowers,
From the seas and the streams;
I bear light read more
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.
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.
A little rain will fill
The lily's cup which hardly moists the field.
A little rain will fill
The lily's cup which hardly moists the field.
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.
And the hooded clouds, like friars,
Tell their beads in drops of rain.
And the hooded clouds, like friars,
Tell their beads in drops of rain.
It is not raining to me,
It's raining daffodils;
In every dimpled drop I see
read more
It is not raining to me,
It's raining daffodils;
In every dimpled drop I see
Wild flowers on distant hills.
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.
The ceaseless rain is falling fast,
And yonder gilded vane,
Immovable for three days past,
read more
The ceaseless rain is falling fast,
And yonder gilded vane,
Immovable for three days past,
Points to the misty main.
The Clouds consign their treasures to the fields;
And, softly shaking on the dimpled pool
Prelusive drops, read more
The Clouds consign their treasures to the fields;
And, softly shaking on the dimpled pool
Prelusive drops, let all their moisture flow
In large effusion, o'er the freshen'd world.