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THE ROOF
25
THE ROOF
I
When the clouds hide the sun away
The tall slate roof is dull and grey,
And when the rain a-down it streams
’Tis polished lead with pale-blue gleams.
When the clouds vanish and the rain
Stops, and the sun comes out again,
It shimmers golden in the sun
Almost too bright to look upon.
But soon beneath the steady rays
The roof is dried and reft of blaze,
’Tis dusty yellow traversed through
By long thin lines of deepest blue.
Then at the last, as night draws near,
The lines grow faint and disappear,
The roof becomes a purple mist,
A great square darkening amethyst
Which sinks into the gathering shade
Till separate form and colour fade,
And it is but a patch which mars
The beauty of a field of stars.
