Poem by Edmund Clarence Stedman

Summer Rain

  Yestermorn the air was dry
  As the winds of Araby,
  While the sun, with pitiless heat,
  Glared upon the glaring street,
  And the meadow fountains sealed,
  Till the people everywhere,
  And the cattle in the field,
    And the birds in middle air,
  And the thirsty little flowers,
    Sent to heaven a fainting prayer
  For the blessed summer showers.

  Not in vain the prayer was said;
  For at sunset, overhead,
  Sailing from the gorgeous West,
  Came the pioneers, abreast,
  Of a wondrous argosy,—
  The Armada of the sky!
  Far along I saw them sail,
  Wafted by an upper gale;
  Saw them, on their lustrous route,
  Fling a thousand banners out:
  Yellow, violet, crimson, blue,
  Orange, sapphire,—every hue
  That the gates of Heaven put on,
  To the sainted eyes of John,
  In that hallowed Patmos isle
  Their skyey pennons wore; and while
  I drank the glory of the sight
    Sunset faded into night.

  Then diverging, far and wide,
  To the dim horizon’s side,
  Silently and swiftly there,
  Every galleon of the air,
  Manned by some celestial crew,
  Out its precious cargo threw,
  And the gentle summer rain
  Cooled the fevered Earth again.

  Through the night I heard it fall
  Tenderly and musical;
  And this morning not a sigh
    Of wind uplifts the briony leaves,
  But the ashen-tinted sky
    Still for earthly turmoil grieves,
  While the melody of the rain,
  Dropping on the window-pane,
  On the lilac and the rose,
  Round us all its pleasance throws,
  Till our souls are yielded wholly
  To its constant melancholy,
  And, like the burden of its song,
  Passionate moments glide along.

  Pinks and hyacinths perfume
  All our garden-fronted room;
  Hither, close beside me, Love!
  Do not whisper, do not move.
  Here we two will softly stay,
  Side by side, the livelong day.
  Lean thy head upon my breast:
  Ever shall it give thee rest,
  Ever would I gaze to meet
  Eyes of thine up-glancing, Sweet!
  What enchanted dreams are ours!
  While the murmur of the showers
  Dropping on the tranquil ground,
  Dropping on the leaves and flowers,
  Wraps our yearning souls around
  In the drapery of its sound.

  Still the plenteous streamlets fall:
  Here two hearts are all in all
  To each other; and they beat
  With no evanescent heat,
  Put softly, steadily, hour by hour,
  With the calm, melodious power
  Of the gentle summer rain,
  That in Heaven so long hath lain,
  And from out that shoreless sea
  Pours its blessings tenderly.

  Freer yet its currents swell!
  Here are streams that flow as well,
  Rivulets of the constant heart;
  But a little space apart
  Glide they now, and soon shall run,
  Love-united, into one.
  It shall chance, in future days,
  That again the lurid rays
  Of that hidden sun shall shine
  On the floweret and the vine,
  And again the meadow-springs
  Fly away on misty wings:
  But no glare of Fate adverse
  Shall on us achieve its curse,
  Never any baneful gleam
  Waste our clear, perennial stream;
  For its fountains lie below
  That malign and ominous glow,—
  Lie in shadowy grottoes cool,
  Where all kindly spirits rule;
  Calmly ever shall it flow
  Toward the waters of the sea,—
  That serene Eternity!

1. W. W.
2. Penelope
3. The Singer
4. Heliotrope
5. Too Late

Edward Sill Summer Rain ("I SAID: Blue heaven (Oh, it was beautiful!)")

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