Rain on the Roof

when the humid shadows hover 

Over all the starry spheres 

And the meiancholy darkness 

Gently weeps in rainy tears,

What a bliss to press the pillow

Of a cottage- chamber bed 

And lie listening to the patter

Of the soft rain overhead!

Every tinkle on the shingles. 

Has an echo in the heart;

And a thousand dreamy fancies 

Into busy being start,

And a thousand recollection 

Weave their air-threads into woof,

As I listen to the patter 

Of the rain upon the roof.

Now in memory comes my mother,

As she used in years agone, 

To regard the darling dreamers 

Ere she left them till the dawn: 

O! I feel her fond look on me

As I listen to this refrain 

Which is  played upon the shingles 

By the patter of the rain.