Prayer for Rain

Rain

rain! the mea­dow lands are all athirst;

The leaves grow crisp up­on the for­est trees;

The flow­ers that spring’s abun­dant mois­ture nursed

Yield no more frag­rance to the pass­ing breeze—

They have all bowed their heads like things ac­cursed

And when shall fresh­er ones suc­ceed to these?

Along the bed of the once rush­ing brook

We seek in vain to trace its spark­ling tide;

And far away in some old sha­dy nook

Where late its crys­tal drops it loved to hide.

The clus­ter­ing branches bend

and vain­ly look

For the lost jew­els

once the wood­land pride!

Clouds rise and float across the az­ure main

The thun­der sends its greet­ing o’er the hills

But the soft fall­ing and re­fresh­ing rain

No more the parch­ing earth with glad­ness fills;

And the sere up­land

with the bar­ren plain

Unheeded sup­pli­cate the van­ished rills.

God of the storm and the re­viv­ing show­er

Look Thou in mer­cy on our sor­est need!

Let not the har­vest fail

since Thine the pow­er

To fill the reap­er’s hand with price­less meed:

We look to Thee in this o’er­sha­dowed hour

For bless­ings which alone from Thee pro­ceed!