IT rains. What lady loves a rainy day? Not she who puts prunella on her foot, Zephyrs around her neck, and silken socks Upon a graceful ankle -- nor yet she Who sports her tasseled parasol along The walks, beau-crowded on some sunny noon, Or trips in muslin, in a winter's night On a cold sleigh-ride -- to a distant ball. She loves a rainy day who sweeps the hearth, And threads the busy needle, or applies The scissors to the torn or threadbare sleeve; Who blesses God that she has friends and home; Who, in the pelting of the storm, will think Of some poor neighbour that she can befriend; Who trims the lamp at night and reads aloud, To a young brother, tales he loves to hear; Or ventures cheerfully abroad, to watch The bedside of some sick and suffering friend,-- Administering that best of medicine, Kindness, and tender care, and cheering hope; -- Such are not sad, e'en on a rainy day. | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...CHARITAS NIMIA; OR THE DEAR BARGAIN by RICHARD CRASHAW HENRY WADSWORTH LONGFELLOW; IN MEMORIAM by HENRY AUSTIN DOBSON ILLUSIONS by ROBERT UNDERWOOD JOHNSON ON THE DEATH OF DR. SWIFT by JONATHAN SWIFT RENCONTRE by THOMAS BAILEY ALDRICH SONNET (1) by JOACHIM DU BELLAY |