After a Dry Summer 177 



All their heart out at once 

 In a generous burst, 



But too late for the nonce, 

 Does the burden of storm hurry o er. 



For the forest is parched, 



The scorch of the sun, 

 The heat as they marched 



Of the winds that o errun 

 Have dried out the roots of the trees, 

 And they stand and appeal 

 For the help of the rain; 

 Leaves fall and fates seal, 

 Yet they pray once again 

 For the visit renewed of the breeze, 



The return of the storm, 



The assail of the gale, 

 Full clouds that reform, 



That descend and envail 

 All the land with their burden of mist ; 

 For thus the earth waits 



For the tempest and stress, 

 When the rain opes the gates, 



And released from duress 

 Sinks deep in the earth it has kissed. 



So trouble the trees, 



Wind of the East ! 

 Mind not the seas, 



Or greatest or least, 



