THE ROOF

When the clouds hide the sun away

The tall slate roof is dull and grey,

And when the rain adown it streams

‘ Tis polished lead with pale-blue gleams.

When the clouds vanish and the rain

Stops, and the sun comes out again,

It shimmers golden in the sun

Almost too bright to look upon.

But soon beneath the steady rays

The roof is dried and reft of blaze,

‘ Tis dusty yellow traversed through

By long thin lines of deepest blue.

Then at the last, as night draws near,

The lines grow faint and disappear,

The roof becomes a purple mist,

A great square darkening amethyst

Which sinks into the gathering shade

Till separate form and colour fade,

And it is but a patch which mars

The beauty of a field of stars.