IT IS NOT RAINING RAIN TO ME -Poem
It is not raining rain to me,
It is raining daffodils.
In every dimpled drop I see
Wild flowers on distant hills.
It is not raining rain to me,
It is raining daffodils.
In every dimpled drop I see
Wild flowers on distant hills.
Why so pale and wan?
Prithee, why so pale?
Will, when looking well, can’t move her.
Looking ill prevail?
Peace like a river flows to me,
Peace as an ocean rolls in me,
Peace like the Ganges flows,
It flows from all my hair and toes,
O fetch me quick my wedding robes,
Take my life and let it be consecrated, Lord, to Thee.
Take my heart and let it be full saturated, Love, with Thee.
Take my eyes and let them be intoxicated, God, with Thee.
Take my hnnds and let them be engaged in sweating Truth for Thee.
I know Thee, I know Thee, O Love.
You may shrink or shirk or shake my locks.
Thine heart is mine, I read it as a book.
I know Thee, I know Thee, O Love.
“Come not to my grave with your mournings,
With your lamentations and tears,
With your sad forebodings and fears,
When my lips are dumb, Do not thus come.