Classic Poem

Silent, wrapped in dull dumb wonder,
Stand the cattle on the plain,
While the undulating thunder
Mutters to the coming rain.

Blink the blear-eyed beasts ashiver,
When the lightning weird and white,
Inky cloudbergs cleave and sever
With its broad blade sheer and bright.

Stark and still the trees are standing,
Not a slender leaf amove,
While the fiends of drought disbanding,
Flee the face of God and love.

Listen to it coming! coming!
Each drop quicker than the last,
O'er the shrunken shingles drumming
Te Deum for sufferings past.

And the limp grass wakes to waving,
And the dead flowers smile again,
While the thirsty earth is laving
Giant drops of golden rain.

And there rises up to heaven
From the dust a perfume rare,
Sweet as holy incense even —
Earth's response to answered prayer.