There is a solemn wind to-night That sings of solemn rain;
The trees that have been quiet so long Flutter and start again.
The slender trees, the heavy trees, The fruit trees laden and proud,
Lift up their branches to the wind That cries to them so loud.
The little bushes and the plants Bow to the solemn sound,
And every tiniest blade of grass Shakes on the quiet ground.
