uncertainties, it came to pass one day, that in the midst of a
shower of rain that might well be called golden, seeing the sun,
shining as it fell, turned all its drops into molten topazes, and
every drop was good for a grain of golden corn, or a yellow cowslip,
or a buttercup, or a dandelion at least;--while this splendid rain
was falling, I say, with a musical patter upon the great leaves of
the horse-chestnuts, which hung like Vandyke collars about the necks
of the creamy, red-spotted blossoms, and on the leaves of the
sycamores, looking as if they had blood in their veins, and on a
multitude of flowers, of which some stood up and boldly held out
their cups to catch their share, while others cowered down,
laughing, under the soft patting blows of the heavy warm drops;--
while this lovely rain was washing all the air clean from the motes,
and the bad odors, and the poison-seeds that had escaped from their
prisons during the long drought;--while it fell, splashing and
sparkling, with a hum, and a rush, and a soft clashing--but stop! I
am stealing, I find, and not that only, but with clumsy hands
spoiling what I steal:--

"O Rain! with your dull twofold sound,