  Between the showers I went my way, The glistening street was bright with flowers; It seemed that March had turned to May Between the showers. Above the shining roofs and towers The blue broke forth athwart the gray; Birds carolled in their leafless bowers. Hither and thither, swift and gay, The people chased the changeful hours; And you, you passed and smiled that day, Between the showers. Amy Levy. |
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