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THE SUMMER RAIN.
The Summer rain, the Summer rain!
It is streaming down to the earth again;
The hills are green where the bright drops lie,
And hid are the bee and the butterfly:
The pods are filled, and the streamlets flow
O'er pebbly beds, with their music low;
And the lily is lifting her chalice fair,
And the red-rose swings in the freshened air,
And flower-cups bend to the blessed rain,
That is streaming down to the earth again.
