This page has been validated.
SINGING IN THE RAIN.
55
SINGING IN THE RAIN.
HERE the elm-tree branches by the rain are stirred, Careless of the shower, swings a little bird:
Clouds may frown and darken, drops may fall in vain;—
Little heeds the warbler singing in the rain!
Silence soft, unbroken, reigneth everywhere,—
Save the rain's low heart-throbs pulsing on the air,—
Save the song, which, pausing, wins no answering strain;—
Little cares the robin singing in the rain!
Save the rain's low heart-throbs pulsing on the air,—
Save the song, which, pausing, wins no answering strain;—
Little cares the robin singing in the rain!
Not yet are the orchards rich with rosy snow,
Nor with dandelions are the fields aglow;
Yet almost my fancy in his song's sweet flow
Hears the June leaves whisper, and the roses blow!
Nor with dandelions are the fields aglow;
Yet almost my fancy in his song's sweet flow
Hears the June leaves whisper, and the roses blow!
