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The later rain,--it falls in anxious haste Upon the sun-dried fields and branches bare, Loosening with searching drops the rigid waste, As if it would each root's lost strength repair. - [Rain] Thou lookest up with meek, confiding eye Upon the clouded smile of April's face, Unharmed though Winter stands uncertain by, Eyeing with jealous glance each opening grace. - The Windflower [Windflowers]
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