by William Ernest Henley (1849 - 1903)
A sombre, sagging sky
Language: English
A sombre, sagging sky Of tossed and tumbled wrack And ragged clouds, that lie To meet the wind's attack, Or march in columns black And serried ; then a still, A feverish kind of thrill ; And whispering in the leaves, And pattering on the pane, It falls in very sheaves, The weary, dreary rain. The summer seems to sigh As she were flouted back. The grasses rot and die, The corn begins to crack. The flowers would like to pack, It 's all so dank and chill, Discomfortable and shrill : While, flickering from the eaves And gurgling down the drain, The sodden world receives The weary, dreary rain. The big trees, broad and high, Grow thick and blurred and slack. The birds, too dull to fly, Brood dismal, and the track Shines. If a sudden quack Sound from the ducks that swill, The damp hush takes it ill. But ever and on it weaves Its rhythms with might and main, And all its will achieves, The weary, dreary rain.
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Authorship:
- by William Ernest Henley (1849 - 1903), "Of rain", appears in A Book of Verses, first published 1888 [author's text checked 1 time against a primary source]
Musical settings (art songs, Lieder, mélodies, (etc.), choral pieces, and other vocal works set to this text), listed by composer (not necessarily exhaustive):
- by Charles Willeby (1865 - 1955), "Summer rain", published <<1940. [text not verified]
Researcher for this text: Emily Ezust [Administrator]
This text was added to the website: 2008-12-10
Line count: 33
Word count: 171