The Cloud

I am the daughter of Earth and Water And the nursling of the sky I pass through the pores of the oceans and shores I change, but I cannot die For after the rain, when it never a stain The pavilion of heaven is bare And the winds and sunbeams with their convex gleams Build up the blue dome of air I silently laugh at my own cenotaph And out of the caverns of rain. Like a child from the womb, like a ghost from the tomb I unrise and unbuilt it again I bring fresh showers for the thirsting flowers From the seas and from the streams I bear light shade for the leaves when laid In their noonday dreams From my wings are shaken the dews that waken The sweet buds every one When rocked to rest on their mother's breast As she dances about the sun. I wield the flail of the lashing hail And whiten the green plains under And then again I dissolve it in rain And laugh as I pass in thunder I am the daughter of Earth and Water And the nursling of the sky I pass through the pores of the oceans and shores I change, but I cannot die For after the rain, when it never a stain The pavilion of heaven is bare And the winds and sunbeams with their convex gleams Build up the blue dome of air I silently laugh at my own cenotaph And out of the caverns of rain. Like a child from the womb, like a ghost from the tomb I unrise and unbuilt it again