IN SUMMER RAIN.

HOW vividly in summer rain
    The commonest of tints are seen;
The Robin is a scarlet stain
    Against the shining evergreen.

The last scant strawberries—a score

    That hid behind the reddening leaves—
Rain-flushed, wind-tossed, are waiting for
    Red-lipped or redder-breasted thieves.

The willows, pallid in the sun,
    Are sunny in the rainy dark,

A deeper brown the streamlets run,
    And deeply black the orchard bark.

And yet, although the clouds are gray,
    These freshening tints of every hue
Would intimate a rain at play,

    Or at the worst a storm of dew.

The quality of mercy flows
    Upon the meadow’s thirsty brood,
And every brightening grass-blade shows
    The quality of gratitude. [Page 71]