BEFORE the rain, low in the obscure east, <br />Weak and morose the moon hung, sickly gray; <br />Around its disc the storm mists, cracked and creased, <br />Wove an enormous web, wherein it lay <br />Like some white spider hungry for its prey. <br />Vindictive looked the scowling firmament, <br />In which each star, that flashed a dagger ray, <br />Seemed filled with malice of some dark intent. <br />The marsh-frog croaked; and underneath the stone <br />The peevish cricket raised a creaking cry. <br /> <br />Within the world these sounds were heard alone, <br />Save when the ruffian wind swept from the sky, <br />Making each tree like some sad spirit sigh; <br />Or shook the clumsy beetle from its weed, <br />That, in the drowsy darkness, bungling by, <br />Sharded the silence with its feverish speed. <br /> <br />Slowly the tempest gathered. Hours passed <br />Before was heard the thunder's sullen drum <br />Rumbling night's hollow; and the Earth at last, <br />Restless with waiting,-like a woman, dumb <br />With doubting of the love that should have clomb <br />Her casement hours ago,--avowed again, <br />'Mid protestations, joy that he had come. <br />And all night long I heard the Heavens explain.<br /><br />Madison Julius Cawein<br /><br />http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/before-the-rain-6/
