Read "Wet Weather Talk. (Rhymes of Rainy Days)" by James Whitcomb Riley online for free on Textopian. Full text with search, annotations, highlights, and AI-powered reading aids.
It ain't no use to grumble and complain; / It's jest as cheap and easy to rejoice: / When God sorts out the weather and sends rain, / W'y, rain's my choice.
Men giner'ly, to all intents -- / Although they're ap' to grumble some -- / Puts most their trust in Providence, / And takes things as they come; -- / That is, the commonality / Of men that's lived as long as me, / Has watched the world enough to learn / They're not the boss of the concern.
With _some_, of course, it's different -- / I've seed _young_ men that knowed it all, / And didn't like the way things went / On this terrestial ball! / But, all the same, the rain some way / Rained jest as hard on picnic-day; / Er when they railly wanted it, / It maybe wouldn't rain a bit!
In this existence, dry and wet / Will overtake the best of men -- / Some little skift o' clouds'll shet / The sun off now and then; / But maybe, while you're wondern' who / You've fool-like lent your umbrell' to, / And _want_ it -- out'll pop the sun, / And you'll be glad you ain't got none!
It aggervates the farmers, too -- / They's too much wet, er too much sun, / Er work, er waiting round to do / Before the plowin''s done; / And maybe, like as not, the wheat, / Jest as it's lookin' hard to beat, / Will ketch the storm -- and jest about / The time the corn 's a-jintin' out!
These here cy-clones a-foolin' round -- / And back'ard crops -- and wind and rain, / And yit the corn that's wallered down / May elbow up again! / They ain't no sense, as I kin see, / In mortals, sich as you and me, / A-faultin' Nature's wise intents, / And lockin' horns with Providence!
It ain't no use to grumble and complain; / It's jest as cheap and easy to rejoice: / When God sorts out the weather and sends rain, / W'y, rain's my choice.