ON THE DOORSTEP

The rain imprinted the step's wet shine

With target-circles that quivered and crossed

As I was leaving this porch of mine;

When from within there swelled and paused

A song's sweet note;

And back I turned, and thought,

“Here I'll abide.”

The step shines wet beneath the rain,

Which prints its circles as heretofore;

I watch them from the porch again,

But no song-notes within the door

Now call to me

To shun the dripping lea

And forth I stride.

Jan. .