Rain by Edward Thomas

Rain
By Edward Thomas
Rain, midnight rain, nothing but the wild rain
On this bleak hut, and solitude, and me
Remembering again that I shall die
And neither hear the rain nor give it thanks
For washing me cleaner than I have been
Since I was born into this solitude.
Blessed are the dead that the rain rains upon:
But here I pray that none whom once I loved
Is dying tonight or lying still awake
Solitary, listening to the rain,
Either in pain or thus in sympathy
Helpless among the living and the dead,
Like a cold water among broken reeds,
Myriads of broken reeds all still and stiff,
Like me who have no love which this wild rain
Has not dissolved except the love of death,
If love it be towards what is perfect and
Cannot, the tempest tells me, disappoint.
#EdwardThomas #Rain #Poems #Poetry

[@minivercheevy4828]

Just so you know, I keep going back to this one, thank you man. You're doing great and I appreciate it

[@bwthornton]

Thank you, much appreciated.

[@minivercheevy4828]

Thanks a lot man! That was great.
Of all those who recite poetry I heard on this platform, you are the best. Glad to have found your channel mate.
Thanks again and best regards from Syria!