The sky saggs low with convoluted cloud.
⁠Heavy and imminent, rolled from rim to rim.
⁠And wreaths of mist beveil the further brim
Of the leaden sea, all spiritless and cowed.

The rain is falling sheer and strong and loud.
⁠The strand is desolate, the distance grim
⁠With stormful threats, the wet stones glister dim.
And to the wall the dank umbrellas crowd.

At home! — the soaked shrubs whisper dismal-mooded.
⁠The rails are strung with drops, and steeped the grasses,
⁠⁠Black chimney-shadows streak the shiny slates.

A draggled fishwife screeches at the gates,
⁠The baker hurries dripping on, and hooded
⁠⁠In her stained skirt a pretty housemaid passes.