The rain came playing down the gray sky
And dancing lashed each passerby.
Some, voices joined to the boisterous noise
And laughed and danced and ran like little boys.

The rain came swaying through the great trees,
Branch on branch was dashed with ease,
And each wet leaf was set a-sway
With silvery tips a-lit so gay.

The rain lay chaste on the naked ground,
Its panting past cast not a sound.
The young sun sprung way high o’er mounts,
Which tumbled some in bubbling founts.

The lake is razor-rate, sharp and great,
A sheer clean mirror in keen clear state.
The dark tall trees around that are
Hold beauty in this storm-built star.

It waits the face of brave bright maid,
And manly hands all unafraid,
To be baptized by meaning much
And sacredized by human touch.