The Voice of the Rain I am the great and gentle Rain, Sweeping through heavens—ways unbroken: I come to soft the earth again, With gentle thoughts and sounds unspoken.

I bid the flowers gently grow, And drink the dew through every part; Through stillness deep I come and go, With peace that fills the freighted heart.

So warm and low my melodies, In every song my whispers mourn, The earth shall greet all melting teas, ‘Till echoes call and joys reborn.

• Oliver Wendell Holmes Sr