First thunders spoke at half-past one On the sixth day; the new sun Burned white behind great silver clouds; And clattering softly in the crowds Of trees and droning on the meadow The first frail rain spread like a shadow Till suddenly it was released Upward within a wide white mist Leaving sharp colours and new smells. Pink snails looked out from their blue shells; Two wide geese, brilliant from their bath, Came rocking down a Thumb-scooped path, Their stiff steps shattering the bright Green puddles there. The air flowed white. The apple tree (just blossoming) Became a strange, star-glittering thing. . . . When the rain's singing scarce was over They stared irresolute from cover. The man leapt forth and gave a cry And wallowed in the weeds to dry. But Eve stood tiptoe under a slim Wind-ruffled arc with a red rim And screamed in terror, seeing such A beautiful thing she could not touch. | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...THE FORERUNNERS by GEORGE HERBERT ESCAPE by GEORGIA DOUGLAS JOHNSON EPIPSYCHIDION by PERCY BYSSHE SHELLEY FAREWELL OF A VIRGINIA SLAVE MOTHER TO HER DAUGHTERS SOLD INTO BONDAGE by JOHN GREENLEAF WHITTIER HARMONIE DU SOIR by CHARLES BAUDELAIRE THE STRING AROUND MY FINGER by JOHN GARDINER CALKINS BRAINARD |