A Rainy Day in April

By Francis Ledwidge

When the clouds shake their hyssops, and the rain

Like holy water falls upon the plain,

'Tis sweet to gaze upon the springing grain

And see your harvest born.

And sweet the little breeze of melody

The blackbord puffs upon teh budding tree,

While the wild poppy lights upon the lea

And blazes 'mid the corn.

The skylark soars the freshening shower to hail,

And the meek daisy holds aloft her pail.

And Spring all radiant by the wayside pale

Sets up her rock and reel.

See how she weaves her mantle fold on fold,

Hemming the woods and carpeting the wold.

Her warp is of the green, her woof the gold,

The spinning world her wheel.