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 And all at once, and over all The pitying rain began to fall; I lay and heard each pattering hoof Upon my lowly, thatchèd roof, And seemed to love the sound far more Than ever I had done before. For rain it hath afriendly sound To one who's six feet under ground; And scarce the friendly voice or face: A grave is such quiet place. The rain, I said, is kind to come And speak to me in my new home I would I were alive again To kiss the fingers of the rain, To drink into my eyes the shine