RAIN ON THE ROOF

When the humid shadows hover

Overall the starry spheres

And the melancholy darkness

Gently weeps in rainy tears,

What a bliss to press the pillow

Of a cottage-chamber bed

And lie listening to the patter

Of the soft rain overhead!

Every tinkle on the shingles

Has an echo in the heart;

And a thousand dreamy fancies

Into busy being start,

And a thousand recollections

Weave their air-threads into woof,

As I listen to the patter

Of the rain upon the roof.

Now in memory comes my mother,

As she used in years agone,

To regard the darling dreamers

Ere she left them till the dawn:

O! I feel her fond look on me

As I list to this refrain

Which is played upon the shingles

By the patter of the rain.