A drop fell on the apple tree,
Another on the roof ;
A half a dozen kissed the eaves,
And made the gables laugh.

A few went out to help the brook,
That went to help the sea.
Myself conjectured, Were they pearls,
What necklaces could be !

The dust replaced in hoisted roads,
The birds jocoser sung ;
The sunshine threw his hat away,
The orchards spangles hung.

The breezes brought dejected lutes,
And bathed them in the glee ;
The East put out a single flag,
And signed the fête away.