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Read more poems by Lizette Woodworth Reese: Lizette Woodworth Reese Poems at Poetry X.

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.

Added: 30 May 2002 | Last Read: 22 Apr 2018 6:08 PM | Viewed: 4860 times

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