Verse > Anthologies > James Weldon Johnson, ed. > The Book of American Negro Poetry
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James Weldon Johnson, ed. (1871–1938).  The Book of American Negro Poetry.  1922.
 
The Rain Song
 
Alex Rogers
 
 
Bro. Simmons

“WALK right in Brother Wilson—how you feelin’ to-day?”
 
Bro. Wilson

“Jes Mod’rate, Brother Simmons, but den I ginnerly feels dat way.”
 
Bro. Simmons

“Here’s White an’ Black an’ Brown an’ Green; how’s all you gent’men’s been?”
 
Bro. White

“My health is good but my bus’ness slack.”
 
Bro. Black

“I’se been suff’rin’ lots wid pains in my back.”
        5
 
Bro. Brown

“My ole ’ooman’s sick, but I’se alright—”
 
Bro. Green

“Yes, I went aftuh Doctuh fuh her ’tuther night—”
 
Bro. Simmons

“Here’s Sandy Turner, as I live!”
 
Bro. Turner

“Yes, I didn’ ’spect to git here—but here I is!”
 
Bro. Simmons

“Now, gent’mens, make yo’selves to home,
        10
Dare’s nothin’ to fear—my ole ’ooman’s gone—
My stars; da weather’s pow’ful warm—
I wouldn’ be s’prised ef we had a storm.”
 
Bro. Brown

“No, Brother Simmons, we kin safely say—
’Tain’t gwine to be no storm to-day        15
Kase here am facts days mighty plain
An’ any time you sees ’em you kin look fuh rain
Any time you hears da cheers an’ tables crack
An’ da folks wid rheumatics—dare jints is on da rack—”
 
All

“Lookout fuh rain, rain, rain.
        20
 
“When da ducks quack loud an’ da peacocks cry,
An’ da far off hills seems to be right nigh,
Prepare fuh rain, rain, rain!
 
“When da ole cat on da hearth wid her velvet paws
’Gins to wipin’ over her whiskered jaws,        25
Sho’ sign o’ rain, rain, rain!
 
“When da frog’s done changed his yaller vest,
An’ in his brown suit he is dressed,
Mo’ rain, an’ still mo’ rain!
 
“When you notice da air it stare’s stock still,        30
An’ da blackbird’s voice it gits so awful shrill,
Dat am da time fuh rain.
 
“When yo’ dog quits bones an’ begins to fas’,
An’ when you see him eatin’; he’s eatin’ grass:
Shoes’, trues’, cert’nes sign ob rain!”        35
 
Refrain

“No, Brother Simmons, we kin safely say,
’Tain’t gwine tuh be no rain to-day,
Kase da sut ain’t fallin’ an’ da dogs ain’t sleep,
An’ you ain’t seen no spiders fum dare cobwebs creep;
Las’ night da sun went bright to bed,        40
An’ da moon ain’t nevah once been seen to hang her head;
If you’se watched all dis, den you kin safely say,
Dat dare ain’t a-gwine to be no rain to-day.”
 

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