The rain that beat the whole night long was still when night was gone,
(O sorrow beating on my heart, how long before you cease?)
All the garden rose and shone and sparkled in the drawn—
Glad, oh, so glad again of warmth and light and peace!

If you should forgive me—as you will never do—
My heart would be a garden after rainfall in the sun,
Shining, growing, glowing with a hundred loves of you;
But oh, it's weary waiting till the long rain's done!

If you should forgive me sometime when I am old,
I would break my youth in bits to hurry on the day.
A garden lifts and lives again for all the rain and cold,
But, oh, its weary waiting when the sun's away!