Kind er like a stormy day, take it all together,—
Do n't believe I'd want it jest only pleasant weather;
If the sky was allers blue, guess I'd be complainin’,
And a-pesterin’ around, wishin’ it was rainin’.
Like a stormy mornin’ now, with the water dashin’
From the eaves and from the spouts, foamin’ and a-splashin’,
With the leaves and twigs around, shinin’ wet and drippin’,
Shakin’ in the wind with drops every-which-way skippin’.
Like ter see the gusts of rain, where there's naught ter hinder,
Sail acrost the fields and come “spat” against the winder,
Streakin’ down along the panes, floodin’ sills and ledges,
Makin’ little fountains, like, in the sash's edges.
Like ter see the brooks and ponds dimpled up all over,
Like ter see the di'mon' s shine on the bendin’ clover,
Like ter see the happy ducks in the puddles sailin’
And the stuck-up rooster all draggled, wet and trailin’.
But I like it best inside, with the fire a-gleamin’,
And myself, with chores all done, settin’ round and dreaming
With the kitten on my knee, and the kettle hummin’,
And the rain-drops on the roof, “Home, Sweet Home” a-drummin’.
Kind er like a stormy day, take it all together,
Do n't believe I'd want it jest only pleasant weather;
If the sky was allers blue, guess I'd be complaining
And a-pesterin’ around, wishin’ it was rainin’.