The Wind and the Rain The wind blew to the freshly mown fields
And I looked out into the deep and dark
I felt it gust against the tops of my brows;
Upon the hills stood high above our blood,
And noted all our care beneath the trees,
While shadows traveled deeper into the stars
And were stained still in their light.

The rain poured over pastures and big, and dark
Left streaks of green upon the furrows of the earth;
The winds wept for all the dreams I held
Yet evening lingered softly near the leaves
That were in their shape, both pure and dark;
And yet my heart had felt the wind against the cries
Of towering back within waiting night where I would be whole.

The wind would speak
Of the people left within the dream,
Like darkness listed nearly for the light
And I should fear to face it all alone;
Each coming storm has lifted every heart
And draws it deep where we are all together fled,
Yet it was like the starless night I played
And there was no man lost under this stone.

The rain moved with heavier grace
Into the shapes of unexpected gloom;
There were songs and clamor, and the noise forgot;
Many men still stood beneath the coming dawn
Yet shadows vanished out of sight beyond
Dreams eternal as the glories hide when
Morn and evening sigh around the wind together.

The stillness falls on far away to night.
To vanish patiently beyond each clasp of dreams;
Remembering now the brightness that lost sight,
When manners of the woods could hide away
Into the folds of silence I had come around.

Through the wear of shadows finding breath alone
Among these ripe and shadowy lights at dawn,
Womanly stillness spilled away my route
And held me as if they were still noon,
A voice unnoticed spoke them soft and deep,
Listen; the wind will start the rain as soon as dawn.

• Robert Frost