Before a Shower

Between the marshes and the lake, Upon the long dun dunes of sand, All silvery two aspens shake, And silver gleamings slant and break And fade to gray, above the land.

Among the poplars, swaying tall, Chill lake-born breezes moaning pass; And elfin murmurs soft and small Æolian sighings lift and fall, And die to silence in the grass.

A ripple rocks the drifted weeds, That, trembling, float and sink again, And sudden shudders strike the reeds, As downwards on the silent meads Softly there falls the silver rain.