At top of the thinnest steeple-spire, Down below on the clattering square, A carven angel with folded wings, And folded arms, and circling hair, Looks on in everlasting prayer; And down below the loud bell rings From chime to chime; a swallow sings, A building its nest in the belfry-stair; A grass-blade starts up here and there And whispers and waves in the drafty air. | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...THE GOLDEN WEDDING OF STERLING AND SARAH LANIER by SIDNEY LANIER IN WALKED BUD WITH A PALETTE by CLARENCE MAJOR MONODY ON THE DEATH OF WILLIAM MARION REEDY by EDGAR LEE MASTERS SONG FOR THE FIRST OF THE MONTH by DOROTHY PARKER BUCOLIC COMEDY: SERENADE by EDITH SITWELL |