Like a drift of faded blossoms <br />Caught in a slanting rain, <br />His fingers glimpsed down the strings of his harp <br />In a tremulous refrain: <br /> <br />Patter and tinkle, and drip and drip! <br />Ah! but the chords were rainy sweet! <br />And I closed my eyes and I bit my lip, <br />As he played there in the street. <br /> <br />Patter, and drip, and tinkle! <br />And there was the little bed <br />In the corner of the garret, <br />And the rafters overhead! <br /> <br />And there was the little window -- <br />Tinkle, and drip, and drip!-- <br />The rain above, and a mother's love, <br />And God's companionship!<br /><br />James Whitcomb Riley<br /><br />http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/the-harper/
