 | Hagar |  |
142
SUMMER RAIN.
The rain, the joyous summer rainHas come to us again,
To bless the hot and thirsty earth;
And glad the hearts of men.
We watched with yearning eyes the clouds,
That flitted o'er the sky,
They bore their showers, to other flowers;
And passed our loved one's by.
We saw the dark green fields of maize
Droop like some army brave,
When the fever burns in every vein;
And there is none to save.
But now the blessed, cooling rain
Will lift each drooping crest,
And banners bright shall wave to-night;
'Till the winds have gone to rest.
By a little grave—we placed last May,
The fairest flowers that grows—
There soft rains fell, and sunbeams came,
And we knew they loved our rose.
But the summer heat no pity hath,
It comes with withering power;
And dooms to death, with its fiery breath,
Alike the weed and flower.
It passed athwart the little mound;
And the grass lay withered there,
The rose-tree drooped, so drooped the lost,
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O blessings on thee summer rain!
Sweet rose, thou wilt not die!
But live and bloom on that loved tomb;
And glad each passer-by.
| Hagar | |