The last pose flickered, failed. The screen's dead white <br />Glared in a sudden flooding of harsh light <br />Stabbing the eyes; and as I stumbled out <br />The curtain rose. A fat girl with a pout <br />And legs like hams, began to sing "His Mother". <br />Gusts of bad air rose in a choking smother; <br />Smoke, the wet steam of clothes, the stench of plush, <br />Powder, cheap perfume, mingled in a rush. <br />I stepped into the lobby -- and stood still <br />Struck dumb by sudden beauty, body and will. <br />Cleanness and rapture -- excellence made plain -- <br />The storming, thrashing arrows of the rain! <br />Pouring and dripping on the roofs and rods, <br />Smelling of woods and hills and fresh-turned sods, <br />Black on the sidewalks, gray in the far sky, <br />Crashing on thirsty panes, on gutters dry, <br />Hurrying the crowd to shelter, making fair <br />The streets, the houses, and the heat-soaked air, -- <br />Merciful, holy, charging, sweeping, flashing, <br />It smote the soul with a most iron clashing! . . . <br />Like dragons' eyes the street-lamps suddenly gleamed, <br />Yellow and round and dim-low globes of flame. <br />And, scarce-perceived, the clouds' tall banners streamed. <br />Out of the petty wars, the daily shame, <br />Beauty strove suddenly, and rose, and flowered. . . . <br />I gripped my coat and plunged where awnings lowered. <br />Made one with hissing blackness, caught, embraced, <br />By splendor and by striving and swift haste -- <br />Spring coming in with thunderings and strife -- <br />I stamped the ground in the strong joy of life!<br /><br />Stephen Vincent Benet<br /><br />http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/rain-after-a-vaudeville-show/
