Hour after hour relentlessly the sun
Shriveled the leaves and parched the meadow grass:
The sky was yellow and like molten brass
The heat poured down until the day was done.
Red the round moon arose, and one by one
Blossomed the stars and in the river's glass
Beheld their beauty, but the breeze, alas!
Refused to break the web the spider spun.

But with the dawn a little cloud drew near,
Leading a host forth on the azure plain.
A distant rumble, then a forest cheer,
And then a gust that whirled the weather-vane;
And then, at last,—O melody most dear!
The soft alliteration of the rain.