The Evening Rain

O the rain of the evening is an infinite thing, As it slowly slips on the motionless pavement; Greasy and grey is the rain of the evening, As it dribbles into the dirty gutters And slides down the drains with a roar!

Ragged men cower Under the doorways: Umbrellas nod like drowsy birds. Bat-umbrellas, Teetering, balancing, Where will you spread your wings to-night?

Tangled between the factory-chimneys, I have seen the golden lamps wake this evening: Spinning and whirling, darting and dancing, Tangled with the glittering rain.

Omnibuses lurch Heavily homeward Elephants tinselled in tawdry gold: Taxicabs fight Like wild birds squalling, Wild birds with roaring, clattering wings.

O the rain of the evening is an infinite thing, As it shivers to jewel-heaps spilt on the pavement. The façades frown gloomily at its beauty, The façades are dreaming of the day.

With rippling, curling, Serpentine convolutions The pavements drip with drunken light. Crimson and gold, Shot with opal, They glare against the sullen night.

O the rain of the evening is an infinite thing As it slowly dries on the dirty pavement. Red low-browed clouds jut over the sky: And in the cool sky there are stars.