Page:Poems Dorr.djvu/39

Hark! a sound as of rushing waters,
 Or the rustle of falling leaves,
Or the patter of eager raindrops
 Yonder among the eaves!
Then out from the dark, old chimney,
 Blackened with soot and smoke,
With a whir of fluttering pinions
 A startled birdling broke.

Dashing against the window;
 Lighting a moment where
My sculptured angel folded
 Its soft white wings in prayer
Swinging upon the curtains;
 Perched on the ivy-vine;
At last it rested trembling
 In tender hands of mine.

No stain upon its plumage;
 No dust upon its wings;
No hint of its companionship
 With darkly soiling things!
O, happy bird, thou spirit!
 Stretch thy glad plumes and soar
Where breath of soil or sorrow
 Shall reach thee nevermore!