Drops.
In clots they come,
Jetting down festers of
The mean clouds that soar even higher.
Down here, the feet of the soil are mere clod.
Furnace rules upon the face of the waves,
Brewed and distilled from faceless chimneys.
The farmer’s rain is abroad.
......
Drops.
In clots they come,
Jetting down festers of
The mean clouds that soar even higher.
Down here, the feet of the soil are mere clod.
Furnace rules upon the face of the waves,
Brewed and distilled from faceless chimneys.
The farmer’s rain is abroad.
......