In The Solitary Reaper's Voice

The sun subdues his splendor

To let the sky pour with thunder

Those drops as of pearl,

That would set forth to swirl

The hard bed of the land,

Sap its crust to bring on this strand

Of a sprig and sprout many a shoot

I wish my eyes, a pair

They are, to mirror the flare

Of the sun, that, once it fizzles

So would down fall in sizzles

Those drops that would fain

Bridge the chasm betwixt us twain

And sap my throat off the choking soot