To the sound of falling rain,Pouring on the ground and roof,
Rushing swiftly down the drain.
Grasses brown from many snows
Now take on an Irish green,
On the branches once so dead,
Waking leaves can now be seen.
"Spring is coming!" Nature shouts,
And around the flower beds,
Blue bells, tulips, irises,
Daffodils all show their heads.
Washing all the dry away,
Giving life to what was dead,
Turning winter's night to day.
Brown and frigid, I am like
Icy winter in my heart--
Flowers gone, the trees all bare,
Waiting still for life to start.
Holy Spirit, like the rain,
Fall in floods upon this ground;
Send your sap through all my veins;
Make it springtime all around.
Fill my heart with songs of birds,
Songs of praise, O, let me sing!
Rain of God, wash out the cold