Francis William Bourdillon
For rain, for rain the parched lands cry,
Reproachful to the cloudless sky.
The hot white fields in light are blinking,
The rivers in their beds are shrinking.
For rest, for rest the weary cry
That watch from dark to dawn the sky;
A little sleep their limbs are craving,
A little rest from ceaseless raving.
God gives in His good time the rain,
And sends the sick man peace for pain;
But while we wait His gracious sending,
Alas! the sad days seem unending.
Yet, when the evening comes, the dew
Brings to the fields a fragrance new;
And loving smiles at day’s returning
Will soothe awhile the sick man’s yearning.
Francis William Bourdillon's Other Poems
Read this poem in other languages
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
Comments about this poem (Drought by Francis William Bourdillon )
- MODERN CROOK: DARK SECRET SOCIETY, Dominic George
- THE UNSUNG SIDE OF MAGIC (Acrostic poem:.., Dominic George
- DEVASTATED MOTHER, Dominic George
- CLOWN'S SNEER, Dominic George
- THE IRK CRY OF A LONELY GHOUL, Dominic George
- The Whole Wide World, Margaret Alice Second
- Chili con carne in september, Madrason writer
- IN SINS BONDAGE, Dominic George
- HOMO SAPIEN: PERCEPTION OF BEAUTY, Dominic George
- Discipline and decorum., Gangadharan nair Pulingat..
Poem of the Day
(March 26, 1874 – January 29, 1963)
(4 April 1928 - 28 May 2014)
(12 July 1904 – 23 September 1973)
(16 August 1920 – 9 March 1994)
Edgar Allan Poe
(19 January 1809 - 7 October 1849)
- Heather Burns
(10 December 1830 – 15 May 1886)
(2 June 1840 – 11 January 1928)