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Arthur Symons - By Lough-Na-Gar: Rain
Work rating: Low

Into a land of wandering rain 
I have fled from a voice that follows me still 
To the lonely cabin under the hill; 
It cries to me out of the windless rain. 
And at night I hear it crying again.
 
All day the rain is on the lake, 
All night the rain drips from the thatch; 
I stand at the cabin door and watch 
The drifting rain beat on the lake, 
And the foam-white ripples gather and break. 

The woods are veiled with the rains all day. 
The woods crouch under the rains all night. 
And the rainy torrents cry from the height; 
I hear in the rain, night and day, 
A voice crying from far away.
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