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Poem by Menella Bute Smedley
Rain after Drought
A wind came out of the Moon's clear heart, Straight and soft in my face it blew; It was not cold, but it made me start, And think of something new. What is coming? A thunder-cloud To cover the wild, white sky With a great procession purple and proud, And a whirlwind flashing by? It is only the tender, musical rain Coming to comfort earth again! Hark, it is here! There's joy, indeed, And work in the deeps below; Every drop finds out a seed, And tells it how to grow. The fever of the grass is heal'd, The thirsty roots revive, A whisper runs about the field, That daisies are alive; All make ready a glad surprise For anxious Day's returning eyes. Little he thought when he went to rest What Night was going to do! He had been watching a world oppress'd, And now all things are new. Now let him shine with all his might On river and plain and bough, Eyes that wearily ached last night Will only glitter now. Day, you never can last too long' Day, you are welcome, for Earth is strong!
Menella Bute Smedley
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