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Poem	There trudges one to a merry-making With sturdy swing, On whom the rain comes down. To fetch the saving medicament Is another bent, On whom the rain comes down. One slowly drives his herd to the stall Ere ill befall, On whom the rain comes down. This bears his missives of life and death With quickening breath, On whom the rain comes down. One watches for signals of wreck or war From the hill afar, On whom the rain comes down. No care if he gain a shelter or none, Unhired moves on, On whom the rain comes down. And another knows nought of its chilling fall Upon him aat all, On whom the rain comes down.
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