When April skies begin to frown,
And the cold rain comes pelting down,
We must not grumble nor complain,
Nor idly say, we hate the rain.
God sends the rain; the dust-y ground
It softens in the fields around;
The moisture every plant receives,
And springs afresh in flowers and leaves.
Should God forbid the showers to fall,
Nor send us any rain at all,
The ground would all grow hard and dry,
And every living plant would die.
All things would starve and perish then--
No food for birds, nor beasts, nor men;
Then do not murmur, nor complain,
God, in His goodness, sends the rain.
