29 MARCH 1890, Page 17

POETRY.

RAIN.

IT rains, and all the sky is grey ; While I with heart so blithe and gay Sit here and dream my time away.

Heart-sunshine throws on outward things Its own glad life : with ruffled wings The lark through rain soars up and sings.

And so it still must ever be : The eyes, the eyes shall only see Without what is within, for we Are makers, everlastingly.

C. W. HERBERT.