Classic Poem

The wind calls like a spirit —
The sea, like mystic song;
But the falling rain is like a voice
Murmuring all night long.

For the wind's way none may follow,
The sea no man may bound;
But the rain is gentle minister
Between the skies and ground.

Rising, mist-clad and silent,
From land and sea, it bears
The offering of their fragrances,
The perfume of their prayers.

Then, with its myriad blessings
For the myriad-praying plain,
Each drop an answer to a call,
Earthward returns the rain.

The wind is like a spirit
And the sea a mystery;
But the blessed rain is a living voice
That speaks through the night to me.