THE SUN-SHOWER. by George Parsons Lathrop
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| THE SUN-SHOWER. | |
| A penciled shade the sky doth sweep, And transient glooms creep in to sleep Amid the orchard; Fantastic breezes pull the trees Hither and yon, to vagaries Of aspect tortured. Then, like the downcast dreamy fringe Of eyelids, when dim gates unhinge That locked their tears, Falls on the hills a mist of rain,-- So faint, it seems to fade again; Yet swiftly nears. Now sparkles the air, all steely-bright, With drops swept down in arrow-flight, Keen, quivering lines. Ceased in a breath the showery sound; And teasingly, now, as I look around, Sweet sunlight shines! |
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| George Parsons Lathrop, | |
