|The ebon clouds grotesquely floated through the sky,|
The rain-crows plaintive call pierced through the air.
Man and beast raced for a shelter dry
As the thunder ripped the Heavens with its blare.
Down came the rain in torrents cruel and fast
Sparing no mercy on those who did remain
Out in the weather, until the storm at last had passed
And the sun again, shone through the rain.
Changeable are the days of March with all its squalls,
A likeness to our lives of varied whim;
For with every drop of rain that falls,
The sunshine penetrates, somehow our lives with-in.