Henley Regatta

She looks from the window: still it pours down direly,
And the avenue drips.    She cannot go, she fears;
And the Regatta will be spoilt entirely;
           And she sheds half-crazed tears.

Regatta Day and rain come on together
Again, years after.    Gutters trickle loud;
But Nancy cares not.    She knows nought of weather,
           Or of the Henley crowd:

She's a Regatta quite her own.    Inanely
She laughs in the asylum as she floats
Within a water-tub, which she calls "Henley",
           Her little paper boats.