A bird was singing in the rain
a robin maybe-what's a name
only it was very plain
this bird was singing in the rain.
A gloomy day-all dark and dreary.
I was sitting stooped and bent,
head in hands, my heart was rent
for all the woes upon the earth,
when spring was laboring to birth
fragrant lilies-green in grass,
buds and leaves, and pink on trees.
The house was dark and very still.
Rain splattered on the windowsill.
A bird was singing come what will
the bird was singing in the rain
a robin maybe-what's a name.
This bird was singing in the rain.
Clear lilting notes of April's song
wafted over, through and around
my walls of gray and somber brown.
I will not say it changed my day
or made the bleak world go away
I only tell for all to hear
that on a day so dark and dreary
a bird was singing loud and clearly.
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