After an ugly and prolonged threat of drought, soaking rain has fallen over the whole State, particularly where it was most needed.

We had waited, hoping, singing,
   Watching now the fields turn grey,
Dying, as the hope was dying
   In our hearts day on grim day;
Turning, listless, to dull duty,
   Watching, helpless, mute distress,
As a cruel autumn beauty
   Mocked us, hard and pitiless.

But it's raining! Man, it's raining!
   Hear it sounding, hear it singing
Songs of hope! And, sorrow waning,
   Men again see fortune winging
From the skies to end complaining,
  From the skies to waken mirth.
Raining! Listen! Oh, it's raining
   Benison on all the earth.

We had waited, dreams now dying
   As the lambs died in the fields.
"Tis a drought year," men were sighing.
   "Gone all hope of goodly yields."
We had waited, toiling, slaving
   While men, blaming heedless fate,
Said, "All soon will be past saving.
   When it comes, 'twill come too late."

But it's raining! Man, it's raining!
   In a thousand silent places.
Toward high heaven, smiling, straining,
   Men lift up their glad, wet faces
And their thanks asks no explaining,
   Asks for faith no further proof.
For it's raining, raining, raining!
   Lashing, laughing on the roof.

We had waited, fearing, doubting,
   As each promise dawned to die.
Now despairing, men were shouting
   Curses to a smiling sky.
"All a gamble," men were saying,
   As the parched fields turned to dust....
But, somewhere, a meek soul, praying,
   Smiled, and waited, full of trust.

And it's raining! Lord, it's raining!
   Hear it sounding! See it splashing
Where the grey fields are regaining
   Life anew. Oh, see it flashing
Like a blessing, shining, gleaming,
   Gushing to the thirsty sod,
Shattering men's ugly dreaming,
   Strengthening men's faith in God.

"Den"
Herald, 15 May 1933, p6