THE TWO RAINDROPS
Said a drop to a drop, "Just look at me!
I'm the finest rain-drop you ever did see:
I have lived ten seconds at least on my pane;
Swelling and filling and swelling again.
"All the little rain-drops unto me run,
I watch them and catch them and suck them up each one:
All the pretty children stand and at me stare;
Pointing with their fingers—'That's the biggest drop there.'"
"Yet you are but a drop," the small drop replied;
"I don't myself see much cause for pride:
The bigger you swell up,—we know well, my friend,—
The faster you run down the sooner you'll end.
"For me, I'm contented outside on my ledge,
Hearing the patter of rain in the hedge;
Looking at the firelight and the children fair,—
Whether they look at me, I'm sure I don't care."
"Sir," cried the first drop, "your talk is but dull;
I can't wait to listen, for I'm almost full;
You'll run a race with me?—No?—Then 'tis plain
I am the largest drop in the whole pane."
Off ran the big drop, at first rather slow:
Then faster and faster, as drops will, you know:
Raced down the window-pane, like hundreds before,
Just reached the window-sill—one splash—and was o'er.