Berries & Blossoms A Verse-Book for young people. By T. Westwood |
 |
A LITTLE CHAT WITH THE RAINING
POWERS.
|
 | Berries & Blossoms |  |
94
A LITTLE CHAT WITH THE RAINING POWERS.
WRITTEN DURING A WET WINTER.
Rain, rain, go away,
Come again, another day!
“Nay,” said the Rain, “but I'm come to stay.
Do you hear? to stay! You may frown or smile,
Or drop, if you please, into deep vexations,
Or circle me round with incantations,
But you'll not see the last of me, yet awhile.”
“Stay, stay
Many a day!”
Sang the Roofs, in a guttural roundelay.
Come again, another day!
“Nay,” said the Rain, “but I'm come to stay.
Do you hear? to stay! You may frown or smile,
Or drop, if you please, into deep vexations,
Or circle me round with incantations,
But you'll not see the last of me, yet awhile.”
“Stay, stay
Many a day!”
Sang the Roofs, in a guttural roundelay.
“It chanced, on the mountains, months ago,
I met King Frost, in his mantle of snow,
And his crown of ice. He was coming this way,
But without his umbrella. I soak'd him through,
Roaring and pouring, splashing and dashing,
Now in torrents, and now in spray,
Till his cloak dripp'd off, and his icy crown
Over his eyebrows came oozing down;
And he limp'd and hobbled, with much ado,
Back o'er the hills to his bleak domains,
Where he's lying, they say,
Rack'd, night and day,
With lumbago, and gout, and rheumatic pains;
So there's nothing, you see, to shorten my stay.”
“Stay, stay
Many a day!”
Sang the cisterns, piping their roundelay.
I met King Frost, in his mantle of snow,
And his crown of ice. He was coming this way,
But without his umbrella. I soak'd him through,
95
Now in torrents, and now in spray,
Till his cloak dripp'd off, and his icy crown
Over his eyebrows came oozing down;
And he limp'd and hobbled, with much ado,
Back o'er the hills to his bleak domains,
Where he's lying, they say,
Rack'd, night and day,
With lumbago, and gout, and rheumatic pains;
So there's nothing, you see, to shorten my stay.”
“Stay, stay
Many a day!”
Sang the cisterns, piping their roundelay.
“Why the fact is (if you choose to share
My little confession), for ages gone,
Indeed, ever since I could go alone,
I've been sowing my wild oats here and there,
Wasting my substance in mists and showers,
Sporting with rainbows and flirting with flowers,
Dreaming, in short, of mere pleasures and beauties,
And losing sight of my natural duties,
But all that's over now, I declare.
And here I am, resolved and ready
To turn a new leaf, to be strong and steady,—
Roaring and pouring, splashing and dashing,
Now in torrents and now in spray,—
In a word, to act as befits my station,
To fulfil, to the utmost, my high vocation,
And neither be coax'd nor driven away!”
My little confession), for ages gone,
Indeed, ever since I could go alone,
I've been sowing my wild oats here and there,
Wasting my substance in mists and showers,
Sporting with rainbows and flirting with flowers,
96
And losing sight of my natural duties,
But all that's over now, I declare.
And here I am, resolved and ready
To turn a new leaf, to be strong and steady,—
Roaring and pouring, splashing and dashing,
Now in torrents and now in spray,—
In a word, to act as befits my station,
To fulfil, to the utmost, my high vocation,
And neither be coax'd nor driven away!”
“Stay, stay,
Many a day!”
Gurgled the kennels and drains on their way,
Whirling along,
Muddy and strong,
In a turbid under-current of song,—
“Stay, stay,
Many a day!
And neither be coax'd nor driven away!”
Many a day!”
Gurgled the kennels and drains on their way,
Whirling along,
Muddy and strong,
In a turbid under-current of song,—
“Stay, stay,
Many a day!
And neither be coax'd nor driven away!”
| Berries & Blossoms | |