And the rain drops breathe, as they near the earth,
A gladsome chorus of joy and mirth;
The blue-bells ring ever in tones of glee,
And a pleasant sound hath the humming bee;
And though strangely sad is the spirit’s sigh,
When the crimson clouds leave the evening sky,
Yet when sunbeams burst on the sleeping flowers,
With visions of streamlets and fragrant bowers,
With a flush of joy on their petals bright,
They ope with a chorus of wild delight.