Lizette Woodworth Reese

(January 9, 1856 – December 17, 1935 / Waverly)

Oh, Gray And Tender Is The Rain - Poem by Lizette Woodworth Reese

Oh, gray and tender is the rain,
That drips, drips on the pane!
A hundred things come in the door,
The scent of herbs, the thought of yore.

I see the pool out in the grass,
A bit of broken glass;
The red flags running wet and straight,
Down to the little flapping gate.

Lombardy poplars tall and three,
Across the road I see;
There is no loveliness so plain
As a tall poplar in the rain.

But oh, the hundred things and more,
That come in at the door! --
The smack of mint, old joy, old pain,
Caught in the gray and tender rain.


Comments about Oh, Gray And Tender Is The Rain by Lizette Woodworth Reese

  • (5/19/2014 10:40:00 AM)


    A nicely written poem but not one of my favorites of the poet. (Report) Reply

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Read poems about / on: rain, running, red, joy, pain



Poem Submitted: Monday, January 13, 2003



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