Classic Poem

(On a Rainy Day)

Oh, tell me not of any mirth;
I know them all by heart —
Fond laughter wavering by the hearth
Shrill songs of field and cart.

Oh, tell me not of any grief,
For I do know them all —
Slim, empty chambers, wane of leaf,
And tears, tears that befall.

Oh, tell me not of beauty's glass,
I know it through and through;
Old loves, each flower within the grass,
Is fashioned like to you.

Jest, weeping, daring beauty, too,
Starlight and jocund dawn;
I learned them every one from you,
That now are lost and gone.

Old loves, old house worn dear and thin,
One thing is left of all; —
I hear the little rains begin
Along the orchard wall.