’Tis the patter of the rain-drops,
Baby dear,
Falling lightly on the home-roof,
That we hear.
Patter, patter, low and sweet,
Like the touch of velvet feet
Coming near.
’Tis the patter of the rain-drops
On the grass,
Makes it grow so green and shining
As they pass.
And each leaf upon the trees
Waves, like jewels in the breeze,
Liquid glass.
’Tis the patter of the rain-drops
On the brook,
Makes it dimple, dimple, dimple,
As we look:
Saying as they run away,
“We write records every day
In Love’s Book.”
’Tis the cradle song of summer
That we hear,
In the patter of the rain-drops,
Coming near.
Though the dark skies seem to frown
Every drop brings blessings down,
Baby dear.