Singing in the Rain - An 1858 Nebraska Poem

By Florence Percy.

Where the elm tree branches

By the creek are stirred,

Careless of the shower

Swings a little bird; —

Clouds may frown and darken,

Drops may fall in vain,

Little cares the warbler

Singing in the rain!

 

Silence, soft, unbroken,

Reigneth everywhere,

Save the rain's low heart-throb

Beating on the air, —

Save the song, which, pausing,

With no answering s'main, —

Little cares the wild-bird

Singing in the rain!

 

Not yet are the orchards

Rich with rosy snow, —

Nor with dandelions

Are the fields a-glow, —

Yet almost, my fancy

In his song's soft flow,

Hear the June leaves whisper,

And the roses blow!

 

Dimmer fall the shadows,

Mistier grows the air, —

Still the thick clouds gather

Darkening here and there, —

From their heavy fringes

Pour the drops again —

Still the bird is swinging,

Singing in the rain.

 

Oh, thou helpful singer,

Whom my faith perceives

To a dove transfigured

Bringing olive leaves,

Olive leaves of promise,

Types of joy to be —

How in doubt and trial,

Learns my heart in thee;

 

Cheerful summer-prophet!

Listening to thy song

How my failing spirit

Growth glad and strong!

Let the dark clouds gather,

Let the sunshine wane,

If I may but join thee

Singing in the rain!

July 1, 1858. Bellevue Gazette 2(32): 1.