LAST night, above the whistling wind, I heard the welcome rain, -- A fusillade upon the roof, A tattoo on the pane: The key-hole piped, the chimney-top A warlike trumpet blew; Yet, mingling with these sounds of strife, A softer voice stole through. "Give thanks, O brothers!" said the voice, "That He who sent the rains Hath spared your fields the scarlet dew That drips from patriot veins: I've seen the grass on Eastern graves In brighter verdure rise; But, oh! the rain that gave it life Sprang first from human eyes. "I come to wash away no stain Upon your wasted lea; I raise no banners, save the ones The forest wave to me: Upon the mountain side, where Spring Her farthest picket sets, My reveille awakes a host Of grassy bayonets. "I visit every humble roof; I mingle with the low: Only upon the highest peaks My blessings fall in snow; Until, in tricklings of the stream And drainings of the lea, My unspent bounty comes at last To mingle with the sea." And thus all night, above the wind, I heard the welcome rain. -- A fusillade upon the roof, A tattoo on the pane: The key-hole piped; the chimney-top A warlike trumpet blew; But, mingling with these sounds of strife, This hymn of peace stole through. | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...THE PILLAR OF FAME by ROBERT HERRICK WESTWARD HO! by CINCINNATUS HEINE MILLER DISILLUSIONMENT OF TEN O'CLOCK by WALLACE STEVENS IN MEMORIAM A.H.H.: 67 by ALFRED TENNYSON INDIGNATION; AN ODE by LASCELLES ABERCROMBIE MY LITTLE GARDEN by GWENDOLEN ALLEN ON THE PASSING OF THE LAST FIRE HORSE FROM MANHATTAN ISLAND by KENNETH SLADE ALLING |