  A DROWSY rain is stealing In slowness without stop; The sun-dried earth is feeling Its coolness, drop by drop. The clouds are slowly wasting Their too long garnered store, Each thirsty clod is tasting One drop—and then one more. Oh, ravishing as slumber To wearied limbs and eyes, And countless as the number Of stars in wintry skies, And sweet as the caresses By baby fingers made, These delicate rain kisses On leaf and flower and blade. |
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