IT rains. What lady loves a rainy day? Not she who puts prunella on her foot, Zephyrs around her neck, and silken socks Upon a graceful ankle -- nor yet she Who sports her tasseled parasol along The walks, beau-crowded on some sunny noon, Or trips in muslin, in a winter's night On a cold sleigh-ride -- to a distant ball. She loves a rainy day who sweeps the hearth, And threads the busy needle, or applies The scissors to the torn or threadbare sleeve; Who blesses God that she has friends and home; Who, in the pelting of the storm, will think Of some poor neighbour that she can befriend; Who trims the lamp at night and reads aloud, To a young brother, tales he loves to hear; Or ventures cheerfully abroad, to watch The bedside of some sick and suffering friend,-- Administering that best of medicine, Kindness, and tender care, and cheering hope; -- Such are not sad, e'en on a rainy day. | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...TO COLE, THE PAINTER, DEPARTING FOR EUROPE by WILLIAM CULLEN BRYANT ECHO AND SILENCE by SAMUEL EGERTON BRYDGES LACK OF STEADFASTNESS; BALLAD by GEOFFREY CHAUCER THE LAST CHANTEY by RUDYARD KIPLING SUMMER'S LAST WILL AND TESTAMENT: A LITANY IN TIME OF PLAGUE by THOMAS NASHE |