The speaker is talking to someone he loves fiercely, yet he is imagining a time when that love will no longer hurt. Looking ahead to death—or at least to a grave-like stillness—he pictures his eyes as “pools of quiet” and his heart as too still to be stirred by rain. Rain here carries memory: it repeats “all our moments” and the beloved’s voice, and right now that overwhelms him. In the future he describes, though, it will fall soundlessly within him, touching neither the bitter nor the sweet of the past. The mood is bittersweet and weary, not triumphant. He calls himself content, but the repeated “my dear” and the phrase “so wildly that my heart is spent” suggest exhaustion as much as peace. The image of grazing sheep at evening gives the ending a pastoral hush, but it is the calm of someone longing for numbness after emotional strain.
Poems of Passion Carefully Restrained So as to Offend Nobody XI — Summary
The rain that falls upon my heart And on my eyes so wistfully, Will fall again; I shall not start. For it will drop so restfully
On eyes that will be pools of quiet, Upon a heart that will not stir At memories of ancient riot Within the rain's sad dulcimer.
Even as it falls upon the ground, Nor makes the tiniest pebble start, The rain will fall, nor make a sound Of anything within my heart —
Neither of the bitter nor the sweet Of loving you, my dear, my dear — Though all our moments it repeat, I, who have loved you, shall not hear.
I shall but stare upon my heaven Of silent earth and starless stone. Beyond which, grazing sheep at even Find peace no greater than my own.
And I, who love you now, my dear, So wildly that my heart is spent, Think of the time I shall not hear Your voice in rain, and am content.