"The Soft Wet Lips of the Rain"

The Soft Wet Lips of the Rain

The warm South-Wind went grieving, 

Grieving across the plain, 

And longed with a passionate longing 

For the soft, wet lips of the Rain. 

Stood up the scarlet roses, 

All lovely in a row, 

And with their sweets beguiled him: 

“O South-Wind, do not go!” 

And lolled the crimson poppies 

In languid splendor deep, 

With satin lips entreating─ 

“Stay, stay, South-Wind, and sleep!” 

The pansy sweet attempted 

To lure him to her breast: 

“In cool dark beds of velvet, 

O South-Wind, stay and rest.” 

Yea, even the bashful lily, 

With pearliness aglow, 

Hung low her head and whispered─ 

“Dear South-Wind, do not go!” 

But the South-Wind still goes grieving, 

Grieving across the plain; 

And longs with a passionate longing 

For the soft wet lips of the Rain. 

"The Soft Wet Lips of the Rain" as it appears in Ella Higginson's The Vanishing Race (1911).