I bring fresh showers for the thirsty flowers,

From the seas and the streams;

I bear light shades for the leaves when laid

In their noonday dreams.

From my wings are shaken the dews that waken

The sweet buds everyone,

When rocked to rest on their mother’s breast

As she dances about in the sun,

I wield the flail of the lashing hail

And whiten the green plains under;

And then again I dissolve it in rain

And laugh as I pass in thunder.

—Shelley.