Poems (Larcom)/In the Rain

by Lucy Larcom

IN THE RAIN.

A LIGHT flashed up in her sad blue eye,
Like a ray through a break in the cloudy sky,
  As she leaned at the showered pane.
"Thank Heaven! he 's come!"—but the train shrieked "Nay!"
And crashed o'er her dying hopes away.
 Still she waited on till the day was gone,
  Waited alone in the rain.

Ever, now and again, the cloud-rack through
There peeped a bud of the heavenly blue,—
  Blue, without speck or stain.
Then the young corn shook in its jewelled mist,
And the violets twinkled, pure amethyst;
 And her eye grew bright with a dewy light,
  Waiting alone in the rain.

But the soft blue flower of the sky shut up
Behind the tempest its hollow cup;
  The meadows were dim again:
And the warm light faded out of her eyes,
While she paced, and gazed on the restless skies,
 While she tried to keep her wild heart asleep,
  Waiting alone in the rain.

It streamed and poured from the shelving bank,
It sprinkled mire on the sedges rank;
  It beat on the springing grain.
"Come home!" called the horn from behind the hill:
She heard, but she lingered and listened still,
 Still, gazing back down the iron track,
  Waited alone in the rain.

The hours dragged by; it was dark and late;
The cars rushed on with their throbbing freight,
  Screaming a laugh at her pain.
But the west uncurtained a wide, clear space,
And the sunset lighted a laggard face,
 And the wild, wet day stole in smiles away,
  While two hurried home in the rain.