Summer.AUGUST RAIN.
DEAD is the day, and through the list’ning leavesThe wind-dirge sighs. Sad at my dim-lit paneI darkling sit to hear the pattering rainAnd pebbly drip that plashes from the eaves.Far in the misty fields loll sodden sheaves,Whilst every wheel-mark in the rutty laneLeads down its trickling rivulet to drainMarsh-meadows where the knotted willow grieves.Gray afternoon to dusk hath given place,And dusk to silent darkness falls again.Listless, to see the sad earth veil her face,I watch the miry fields, the swollen rills,And, farther, through my glimmering windowpane,The rain-swept valley and the fading hills...
DEAD is the day, and through the list’ning leavesThe wind-dirge sighs. Sad at my dim-lit paneI darkling sit to hear the pattering rainAnd pebbly drip that plashes from the eaves.Far in the misty fields loll sodden sheaves,Whilst every wheel-mark in the rutty laneLeads down its trickling rivulet to drainMarsh-meadows where the knotted willow grieves.Gray afternoon to dusk hath given place,And dusk to silent darkness falls again.Listless, to see the sad earth veil her face,I watch the miry fields, the swollen rills,And, farther, through my glimmering windowpane,The rain-swept valley and the fading hills...
DEAD is the day, and through the list’ning leavesThe wind-dirge sighs. Sad at my dim-lit paneI darkling sit to hear the pattering rainAnd pebbly drip that plashes from the eaves.Far in the misty fields loll sodden sheaves,Whilst every wheel-mark in the rutty laneLeads down its trickling rivulet to drainMarsh-meadows where the knotted willow grieves.
DEAD is the day, and through the list’ning leaves
DEAD is the day, and through the list’ning leaves
The wind-dirge sighs. Sad at my dim-lit pane
I darkling sit to hear the pattering rain
And pebbly drip that plashes from the eaves.
Far in the misty fields loll sodden sheaves,
Whilst every wheel-mark in the rutty lane
Leads down its trickling rivulet to drain
Marsh-meadows where the knotted willow grieves.
Gray afternoon to dusk hath given place,And dusk to silent darkness falls again.Listless, to see the sad earth veil her face,I watch the miry fields, the swollen rills,And, farther, through my glimmering windowpane,The rain-swept valley and the fading hills...
Gray afternoon to dusk hath given place,
And dusk to silent darkness falls again.
Listless, to see the sad earth veil her face,
I watch the miry fields, the swollen rills,
And, farther, through my glimmering windowpane,
The rain-swept valley and the fading hills...