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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There does a sable cloud
Turn forth her silver lining on the night,
And casts a gleam read more
There does a sable cloud
Turn forth her silver lining on the night,
And casts a gleam over this tufted grove.
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.
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.
The low'ring element
Scowls o'er the darken'd landscape.
The low'ring element
Scowls o'er the darken'd landscape.
She waits for me, my lady Earth,
Smiles and waits and sighs;
I'll say her nay, and read more
She waits for me, my lady Earth,
Smiles and waits and sighs;
I'll say her nay, and hide away,
Then take her by surprise.
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.
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.
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.
But when I came, alas, to wive,
With hey, ho, the wind and the rain,
By swaggering read more
But when I came, alas, to wive,
With hey, ho, the wind and the rain,
By swaggering could I never thrive,
For the rain it raineth every day.
