Song of the Summer Rain
When the winds of dawn go sadly, with a shiver and a moan,
Through the dusty, dewless verdure of the plain,
They are calling to a comrade, for they will not sing alone;
They are seeking for the Lady of the Rain.
Wooing, pleading, hear them say,
“Come and dance with us to-day!
We will sing our newest, loveliest refrain;
But our music is all dumb,
Harps are muted till you come,
Blessing-laden, gracious Lady of the Rain.”
They have called her; now they listen; all the breezes hold their breath.
Shall the lover-winds of summer woo in vain?
Not a whisper, not a murmur! Woods and fields are still as death;
Birds are faint, and blossoms languish for the rain,
Hark! a low mysterious sound,
Rises tremulous from the ground.
She is coming with the tempest in her train.
Herald winds are bugling clear;
Leaflets quiver as in fear:
“O, deal gently with us, Lady of the Rain!”
Now she comes with loud, wild laughter; thunders, lightnings shake the earth,
While the tall trees shriek and bow themselves in pain;
But a broken, tear-wet blossom quells her mad, unholy mirth.
“I am sorry!” cries the Lady of the Rain.
Down the valley slinks the thunder,
Hiding rocks and caverns under,
And a rainbow hangs above the greening plain.
Now on silver-sandalled feet,
And with music rare and sweet,
Loved, forgiven, flits our Lady of the Rain.
~~
Lilian Leveridge (1879-1953)
from A Breath of the Woods, 1926
[Poem is in the public domain in Canada and the United States]
Lilian Leveridge biography
Tomasz Sienecki, Rain, 2003. CC BY 3.0,Wikimedia Commons.
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