Like some mean life wrapped in its sorry dream,—
An empty wagon rattles through the heat.
This is vivid picturing and a fine touch of realism fused with imagination which compares the team rolled in dust to
“Some mean life wrapped in its sorry dream.”
Immediately following the poem upon “Drouth,” of which there are several stanzas sketched with minuteness, occurs one entitled “Before the Rain,” opening with these pictorial lines:
Before the rain, low in the obscure east,
Weak and morose the moon hung, sickly gray;
Around its disc the storm mists, cracked and creased,
Wove an enormous web, wherein it lay
Like some white spider hungry for its prey.