The Rain

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I.

  The rain! the rain! the rain!
  It gushed from the skies and streamed
  Like awful tears; and the sick man thought
  How pitiful it seemed!
  And he turned his face away,
  And stared at the wall again,
  His hopes nigh dead and his heart worn out.
  O the rain! the rain! the rain!

II.

  The rain! the rain! the rain!
  And the broad stream brimmed the shores;
  And ever the river crept over the reeds
  And the roots of the sycamores:
  A corpse swirled by in a drift
  Where the boat had snapt its chain--
  And a hoarse-voiced mother shrieked and raved.
  O the rain! the rain! the rain!

III.

  The rain! the rain! the rain!--
  Pouring, with never a pause,
  Over the fields and the green byways--
  How beautiful it was!
  And the new-made man and wife
  Stood at the window-pane
  Like two glad children kept from school.--
  O the rain! the rain! the rain!

© James Whitcomb Riley