THE rain has ceased, and in my room The sunshine pours an airy flood; And on the church's dizzy vane The ancient cross is bathed in blood. From out the dripping ivy leaves, Antiquely carven, gray and high, A dormer, facing westward, looks Upon the village like an eye. And now it glimmers in the sun, A globe of gold, a disk, a speck; And in the belfry sits a dove With purple ripples on her neck.
Return to the Thomas Bailey Aldrich library , or . . . Read the next poem; A Touch of Nature