Sudden Shower
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lack grows the southern sky, betokening rain, And humming hive-bees homeward hurry bye:They feel the change; so let us shun the grain, And take the broad road while our feet are dry.Ay, there some dropples moistened on my face, And pattered on my hat--tis coming nigh!Let's look about, and find a sheltering place. The little things around, like you and I,Are hurrying through the grass to shun the shower. Here stoops an ash-tree--hark! the wind gets high,But never mind; this ivy, for an hour, Rain as it may, will keep us dryly here:That little wren knows well his sheltering bower, Nor leaves his dry house though we come so near.
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