Classic Poem

When all my lonely window pane
Is marshalled with the shouting rain
And squalid roofs of shining tin
Grin at the shower and drink it in,
And all the boulevards are sheets
Of glist'ning street-lamp stars, and walls
Are wobbly with gay waterfalls;
When noises wander in the gloom
Like draggled cats who find no room
To dry their fur in; that's the time
When every straight-cut edge and line
Gives up its cruelty; the stain
Of day is scrubbed off by the rain.