midnight
IT is next day . There has been rain in the night -- _ heavy _ rain -- and the earth looks soaked and brown and desolate . Great storms , too , had arisen , and scattered the unoffending leaves far and wide , until all the paths are strewn with rustling types of death . Just now the drops are falling , too -- not so angrily as at the midnight past , but persistently , and with a miserable obstinacy that defies all hope of sunshine . `` The windy night '' has made `` a rainy morrow , '' and sorrowful , indeed , is the face of Nature . Sorrowful , too , is the household . A lack of geniality pervades it from garret to basement ; no one seems quite to know what is the matter , but '' _ suspect _ '' that `` crow that flies in Heaven 's sweetest air '' stalks rampant up stairs and down , and damps the ardor of everyone .