 | Ballads and Lyrics by Katharine Tynan |  |
59
RAIN RAINETH.
There are diamonds hung on the spray,
And sea-fog blown from the bay,
The world's as wet as a river,
O thrush, sing now, or sing never,
Spring seems far away.
And sea-fog blown from the bay,
The world's as wet as a river,
O thrush, sing now, or sing never,
Spring seems far away.
Sing out, O blackbird, my king,
My heart is sick for the Spring,
And O, the drenching grey weather
With April half through her tether,
And May on the wing!
My heart is sick for the Spring,
And O, the drenching grey weather
With April half through her tether,
And May on the wing!
For I think when the hawthorn blows,
And the lily's in bud, and the rose,
Perhaps one would scarcely remember
To grieve for a day of November;
—But nobody knows!
And the lily's in bud, and the rose,
Perhaps one would scarcely remember
To grieve for a day of November;
—But nobody knows!
| Ballads and Lyrics by Katharine Tynan | |