Poem by Amy Levy

Between the Showers

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 grey;
Birds carolled in their leafless bowers.

Hither and tither, swift and gay,
The people chased the changeful hours;
And you, you passed and smiled that day,
Between the showers.

1. On the Threshold
2. Philosophy
3. Ralph to Mary
4. The Piano-Organ
5. On the Wye in May

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