1 O, children, come, and look at me,
Was ever rain in such a glee
As I have been all day?
Drop chasing drop most nimbly,
Jostling each other most clumsilly,--
You'd think we were in play.
2 And yet see how much work we've done,
And then you'll say we're not in fun,
Whate'er you thought before;
We've driv'n the sun out of the sky,
Made all the trees and bushes cry,
And tightly closed your doors.
3 We've turn'd the dry and dusty street,
That yesterday was parch'd with heat,
Into a flowing river;
We've made the flow'rs all hang their heads
So low upon their rain soak'd beds,
I fear they can't recover.
4 We've giv'n a shower bath to the cow;
Where are the birds and chickens now?
They're hiding, one and all.
O dear, what will the farmers say?
We've ruin'd all the new-mown hay
By our unlucky fall.
5 O sweet, refreshing rain, you say;
Ah, soon too soon you'll pass away,
Pray, come to us again.
"When I am sent," the rain replies,
"I come from God, the good and wise;
O, bless him for the rain!"