The rasping rain runs down the pane; The whole highway is flooded; The elms sob low, and weep, although Their leaves with gems are studded. The postman plods with dripping odds And ends of mail—I 'll warrant Some tender note from parts remote Is deluged by the torrent. Some dainty maid, no doubt, essayed With utmost care and neatness The note to pen, and mailed it, then, In all its pristine sweetness; And fondly she imagines He Will get it in its glory— The fates veto the plan, and so 'T is just the same old story! Alas! the years must have their tears— Those heart rains so distressing; The storms that mar life's joys and are Bound aye to keep us guessing. The message yet, though soiled and wet, A joyful heart may capture; And may not we through sorrow see, Anon, some hint of rapture? | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...TO THE MARTYRED by GEORGIA DOUGLAS JOHNSON BEFORE DAWN; SONNET by AMY LOWELL SPOON RIVER ANTHOLOGY: SHACK DYE by EDGAR LEE MASTERS OF ANY OLD MAN by ISAAC ROSENBERG CHILD MARGARET by CARL SANDBURG AT THE CHURCH DOOR by GEORGE SANTAYANA |