 | [Poems by Howells in] Poems of two friends |  |
125
MIDNIGHT RAIN.
At twilight Auster, like a gossip, came
And told the secret to the listening leaves:
And they did whisper it among themselves,
The while that dark clouds, purpling in the west,
Heaved up and blotted out the sunset's glory:
The while that lightnings darted from the folds
Of the thick mass, and sprang in fiery shapes
Like weird, fantastic trees and flowers, and withered:
The while the storm-sprite, mounting on damp plumes,
Brushed, as he passed, the cresset stars, and quenched:
The while that Luna hid behind the dusk;
But, as night grew apace, the leaves grew still,
And hung in mute expectance of the rain,
And told the secret to the listening leaves:
And they did whisper it among themselves,
The while that dark clouds, purpling in the west,
Heaved up and blotted out the sunset's glory:
The while that lightnings darted from the folds
Of the thick mass, and sprang in fiery shapes
Like weird, fantastic trees and flowers, and withered:
The while the storm-sprite, mounting on damp plumes,
Brushed, as he passed, the cresset stars, and quenched:
The while that Luna hid behind the dusk;
But, as night grew apace, the leaves grew still,
And hung in mute expectance of the rain,
And now the thunder, that had murmured long
Among the western clouds, rose as they rose,
And shook the fabric of the night. Slow rolled
Along the vault, and nearing earth, grew loud,
And burst with iron clangor on the hills.
Frequent and ghast the lurid lightnings shone
With wide-pervading glow.
At last, some drops,
Shaken from out the sky, fell down to earth;
Then others came, and following fast and many,
The sweet-voiced, sibilant-show'ring gushes fell.
There had long time been drouth, and grateful fields
Drank the pure offering of the teeming clouds
With eager joy. The forest-trees, by heat
Untimely tinted with the hues of autumn,
Held out their stiff leaves, and their branches waved,
And crooned a dreamy measure to the wind.
The rills that arteried the valley-sides,
Swelled and ran down, and mingled in the stream
That flowed beneath. Flowers that had drooped,
Lifted themselves and gave their chalices
For the soft rain to brim. Brute-life partook
The common joy; and men did sweetly sleep.
Among the western clouds, rose as they rose,
And shook the fabric of the night. Slow rolled
Along the vault, and nearing earth, grew loud,
And burst with iron clangor on the hills.
Frequent and ghast the lurid lightnings shone
With wide-pervading glow.
126
Shaken from out the sky, fell down to earth;
Then others came, and following fast and many,
The sweet-voiced, sibilant-show'ring gushes fell.
There had long time been drouth, and grateful fields
Drank the pure offering of the teeming clouds
With eager joy. The forest-trees, by heat
Untimely tinted with the hues of autumn,
Held out their stiff leaves, and their branches waved,
And crooned a dreamy measure to the wind.
The rills that arteried the valley-sides,
Swelled and ran down, and mingled in the stream
That flowed beneath. Flowers that had drooped,
Lifted themselves and gave their chalices
For the soft rain to brim. Brute-life partook
The common joy; and men did sweetly sleep.
As, when a fever long hath burned the frame,
Haply comes health, and bathes the aching brow
With dewy drops: relax the tensioned nerves,
The palms grow moist, the temples throb no more,
A pleasing languor spreads throughout the soul;—
So, welcome to the parched earth, came the rain!
And when the storm had passed, and far away
The thunder faintly murmured, slumber came
Upon her, and she slept the gentle sleep
That health doth ever bring.
Haply comes health, and bathes the aching brow
With dewy drops: relax the tensioned nerves,
The palms grow moist, the temples throb no more,
A pleasing languor spreads throughout the soul;—
So, welcome to the parched earth, came the rain!
And when the storm had passed, and far away
The thunder faintly murmured, slumber came
Upon her, and she slept the gentle sleep
That health doth ever bring.
| [Poems by Howells in] Poems of two friends | |