Wongan Way/Rain on Wongan Hills
Rain on Wongan Hills
Rain! For the Lord in His mercy hath spoken.
Rain! And our drought-ridden bondage is broken.
Rain! For a (door has been opened in heaven.
Rain! Like the manna abundantly given.
Rain on the hills and the sand-plains beneath them.
Rain on the trees and the creepers that wreathe them.
Rain on the gullies and green slopes that bound them.
Rain on the homes and the fair gardens round them.
Rain on the fields where the new grass is showing;
Rain, till the clay-pans are all overflowing.
Rain, till the creeks begin leaping and rushing;
Rain, till the rock-beds with fountains are gushing.
Rain, till the shrubs are with jewels a-quiver;
Rain, till the hoys can go bathe in the river.
Rain! and the children come romping and dashing.
Rain 1 and the girls with their white feet come splashing.
Rain! till they shout it and breathe it and think it.
Rain! How they race it and chase it and drink it!
Rain! How they laugh at it, love it and sing it!
Rain, and the heaven-sent breezes that bring it.
Rain! and the wattle's gold censer is swinging.
Rain! and the birds their “Te deum” are singing.
Rain o’er the country-side, rain in our faces;
Rain with its message for dry desert places.
Rain, till our hearts, to their deepest recesses
Are cleansed and refreshed as the grey wildernesses.
Rain, till the dust of our doubting and grieving
Is all washed away in the joy of believing.
Rain, till the buds of our hope in their beauty
Wreathe with their promise the dry tree of duty.
Rain, till we feel we are learning and growing.
Rain, till our love, like the creek, is o'erflowing.
Rain, till we lift up our hearts in thanksgiving—
Till clear is our vision, and purer our living.
Rain, till we know that the night of our sorrow
Shall break in a brighter and clearer to-morrow.
Rain! for the Lord in His mercy hath spoken.
Rain! and our drought-ridden bondage is broken!