Oh, gray and tender is the rain,
That drips, drips on the pane!
A hundred things come in the door,
The scent of herbs, the thought of yore.
I see the pool out in the grass,
A bit of broken glass;
The red flags running wet and straight,
Down to the little flapping gate.
Lombardy poplars tall and three,
Across the road I see;
There is no loveliness so plain
As a tall poplar in the rain.
But oh, the hundred things and more,
That come in at the door!-
The smack of mint, old joy, old pain,
Caught in the gray and tender rain.
Oh, Gray And Tender Is The Rain
Lizette Woodworth Reese
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Poem topics: joy, pain, red, running, grass, plain, straight, broken, thought, glass, tender, door, rain, Print This Poem , Rhyme Scheme
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