The Rain Was Falling.

The rain was falling. Though no snow fell the wind of frost neighed through the boughs and trees that huddled in the wood like naked men and women in that tempest hoar: The rain was falling. Deep, deep the water pencils fell adown the window-panes condensed with breath of the humans inside and with the warmth of stoves and lights and some ancient chimney-hearts. Ah! the old city, the old town how many chimneys here and there old and grimy on their faces hurled the winter tempest in its orgy wild.