After the Rain

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.