Poems (Eckley)/Rain
For works with similar titles, see Rain.
HE night is chill and dreary, The rain drips down the pane,The ivy startles and shivers With weight of the sullen rain.
RAIN.
HE night is chill and dreary, The rain drips down the pane,The ivy startles and shivers With weight of the sullen rain.Better a fitful tempest, Than this cold sobbing rain,For all the world seems eerie— Will the sun ne'er shine again?
Hark! what a gust sweeps by; O moaning pitiless wind!Frenzied passionate ravings, So like grief of the mind.
But is there no storm, no tempest Abroad on the land to-night?Alas! poor heart look up! the stars Are shining above thee bright.
Better the angry tempest, Than this sad sullen rain,This chafing of the spirit Under its weight of pain.
O faithless heart! look upward On the calm night, and prayGod may forgive thy repinings, And bring back thy summer's day.
Moan on sad winds! I hear ye not— Rain! drop, drop down the pane;But O that the clouds may not return After this dreary rain!