by Luis G. Dato
O rain, dear rain, ‘tis falling everywhere,
Or so it seems, on field and hill and sea,
The sky’s forbidding far as eye could see,
The earth is sombre that erstwhile was fair,
The hills that but a while were blue and bare,
Are shrouded now in mists, in sorcery.
Monotonous and dull the scenery,
Compounded all in gloom and dark despair.
And yet how well I wished you were the rain,
And not the sky, but you were shedding tears,
For in your waters I would bathe again
And meet refreshed the softly falling spears,
Then I would have no dreams to dream in vain,
And clasp your nearness in the rain’s refrain.