THE RAIN-DROP AND THE POET.

Come, tell me, little noisy friend,

That knockest at my pane,

Whence is thy being? Where dost end,

Thou little drop of rain?

I come from the deep,

Where the dark waves sleep,

And their beauty ever the sea-pearls keep;

I go to the brow

Of the mountain-snow,

And trickle again to the depths below.

But, wanderer, how didst win thy way

From caverns of the sea?

Did not thy sisters say thee nay,

Sweet harbinger of glee?

With his far-darting flame,

The Day-king came,

And bore me away in a cloudy frame;

And I sailed in the air,

Till the zephyrs bare

Me hither to hear thy minstrel-prayer.

And why dost change that tiny form,

Thou sweetest ocean-child?

Why art the snow in winter-storm,

The rain in summer mild?

The breath from above

Of Him who is Love,

In the snow and the rain-storm bids me to rove,

Lest the young-budding earth

Be destroyed in the birth,

And Famine insult over Plenty and Mirth.

And wilt thou, little one, bestow

The minstrel's small request?

Wilt come when cares of earth below

Press on his aching breast?

'Tis the minstrel's own

To kneel at the throne

Of Him who reigns in the heavens alone;—

The grief of the soul

'Tis His to control,

Who bids in the azure the planets roll.

His couch when balmy slumber flies,

In watches of the night,

Wilt, soother, come, and close his eyes,

And make his sorrows light?

I cannot come

From my sea-deep home,

Whene'er I list on the earth to roam:

Who rules in the form

Of the ocean-storm

His will must the rain-drop, too, perform.

Thy gentle prattle at the pane

Makes timorous Fancy smile:

Then let me hear that tender strain;

Blithe charmer, stay a while.

No: I cannot delay,

But must quickly away

Where the rills in the valley my coming stay;

I haste to the dell

Where the wild-flowers dwell,

Then "Peace to thee, minstrel," is the rain-drop's farewell.


The poetry and prose you have been reading, children, thus far was most of it selected, when I was invited to a beautiful celebration, with some account of which you will be glad, I am sure, to have me close my collection. It was on