I hear the rain in my garden Softly beseeching me To slip from the arms of sorrow For a rendezvous under the tree. Now with his long silver fingers He taps on my window there, And my heart stirs as it remembers The feel of his hands in my hair. I have been faithful to sorrow, I have lain with him night after night; But barren has been all his passion, And futile has been his delight. Then why should I lie here longer, Restless and unfulfilled When the promise in rain's entreaty Can be neither evaded nor stilled. I will go into the garden; I will give myself to the rain; And perhaps will be born of this union Peace in my heart again. | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...WINTER GARDEN THEATRE by EDGAR LEE MASTERS EPISTLE TO SIR ROBERT WALPOLE (1) by HENRY FIELDING IN THE NEOLITHIC AGE by RUDYARD KIPLING THE BAYADERE by FRANCIS SALTUS SALTUS FRIENDS by WILLIAM BUTLER YEATS LILIES: 24 by GEORGE BARLOW (1847-1913) FOR A BEAUTIFUL YOUTH by THALIA BELL |