Page:Dora Sigerson Shorter - New Poems.djvu/47



night the small feet of the rain Within the garden ran, And gentle fingers tapped the pane Until the dawn began.

The rill-like voices called and sung The slanting roof beside; "The children of the clouds have come; Awake! awake!" they cried.

"Weep no more the drooping rose Nor mourn the thirsting tree, The little children of the storm Have gained their liberty."

All night the small feet of the rain About my garden ran, Their rill-like voices called and cried Until the dawn began.