Rain
Edward Thomas
1878 to 1917
Track 1
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Is dying tonight or lying still awake
Myriads of broken reeds all still and stiff,
For washing me cleaner than I have been
Rain, midnight rain, nothing but the wild rain
Like a cold water among broken reeds,
If love it be towards what is perfect and
Solitary, listening to the rain,
And neither hear the rain nor give it thanks
Has not dissolved except the love of death,
Since I was born into this solitude.
Cannot, the tempest tells me, disappoint.
Blessed are the dead that the rain rains upon:
Remembering again that I shall die
Either in pain or thus in sympathy
Helpless among the living and the dead,
Like me who have no love which this wild rain
On this bleak hut, and solitude, and me
But here I pray that none whom once I loved