Classic Poem

How pleasant falls the shower the very sound
Ecchos of joy in summers thirsty ear
Pattering among the leaves & bushes round
& moistning dancing bent stalks everywere
Lifes pulse seems throbbing with excess of Joy
The shepherd whistling to his hut retreats
Hay making groups in glee their rest employ
Were trees above head in a thick roof meets
& neath the dry arch hies the herding boy
& all his store of pastimes joy repeats
Making his willow whips & rushy thongs
Or forming with his knife rude fancys things
The black bird whispers oer its heart felt songs
& manna drops on all from each clouds horned wings