AN AUTUMN RAIN - SCENE
Poem by Thomas Hardy
There trudges one to a merry-makingWith sturdy swing,On whom the rain comes down.
To fetch the saving medicamentIs another bent,On whom the rain comes down.
One slowly drives his herd to the stallEre ill befall,On whom the rain comes down.
This bears his missives of life and deathWith quickening breath,On whom the rain comes down.
One watches for signals of wreck or warFrom the hill afar,On whom the rain comes down.
No care if he gain a shelter or none,Unhired moves on,On whom the rain comes down.
And another knows nought of its chilling fallUpon him aat all,On whom the rain comes down.
October 1904
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