Explore "The Rain" by Francis Sherman on Textopian. Read with annotations and highlights.
O ye who so unceasing praise the Sun; / Ye who find nothing worthy of your love / But the Sun's face and the strong light thereof; / Who, when the day is done, / Are all uncomforted / Unless the night be crowned with many a star, / Or mellow light be shed / From the ancient moon that gazeth from afar, / With pitiless calm, upon the old, tired Earth; / O ye to whom the skies / Must be forever fair to free your eyes / From mortal pain; -- / Have ye not known the great exceeding worth / Of that soft peace which cometh with the Rain?
Behold! the wisest of you knows no thing / That hath such title to man's worshipping / As the first sudden day / The slumbrous Earth is wakened into Spring; / When heavy clouds and gray / Come up the southern way, / And their bold challenge throw / In the face of the frightened snow / That covereth the ground.