Classic and Contemporary Poetry
WET WEATHER, by ISABEL ECCLESTONE MACKAY Poet's Biography First Line: It is the english in me that loves the soft Last Line: And the sound of water calling, as it used to call at home. Subject(s): Absence; Rain; Separation; Isolation | ||||||||
IT is the English in me that loves the soft, wet weather The cloud upon the mountain, the mist upon the sea, The sea-gull flying low and near with rain upon each feather, The scent of deep, green woodlands where the buds are breaking free. A world all hot with sunshine, with a hot, white sky above it Oh then I feel an alien in a land I'd call my own; The rain is like a friend's caress, I lean to it and love it, 'Tis like a finger on a nerve that thrills for it alone! Is it the secret kinship which each new life is given To link it by an age-long chain to those whose lives are through, That wheresoever he may go, by fate or fancy driven, The home-star rises in his heart to keep the compass true? Ah, 'tis the English in me that loves the soft, gray weather The little mists that trail along like bits of wind-flung foam, The primrose and the violetall wet and sweet together, And the sound of water calling, as it used to call at home. | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...THE EVENING OF THE MIND by DONALD JUSTICE CHRISTMAS AWAY FROM HOME by JANE KENYON THE PROBLEM by CHARLOTTE FISKE BATES WHEN A WOMAN LOVES A MAN by DAVID LEHMAN THIS UNMENTIONABLE FEELING by DAVID LEHMAN A CHRISTMAS CHILD by ISABEL ECCLESTONE MACKAY |
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