At the doorway of his lodging,
Thought he stood one rainy morning,
Thought he stood there, lounging idly,
Watching fall the sooty raindrops
From the eaves and roofs of houses,
Watching fill the dirty puddles,
Splashed and speckled with the drizzle;
Flowed in filthy streams the gutters,
Flowed the spouts as they ran over;
Pouring, pelting, came the shower.