Christopher John Brennan - Interlude: The Hearth And The Window

Christopher John Brennan - Interlude: The Hearth And The Window

Thou cricket, that at dusk in the damp weeds, br all that, alack! my sickly garden breeds, br silverest the brown air with thy liquid note br now eve is sharp, I, hearkening, dream remote br the home my exiled heart hath somewhere known br far from these busy days that make me lone, br in twilit past, where the soon autumn damp br is gather'd black above the yellow lamp br that guides my feet towards the rustic roof br infrequent, on the forest edge, aloof, br as I return, nor fail to greet the way br (ah, when?) the witness of my childish play, br and feel that soon the silver-piled snow br will make the watches warm beside the glow br that just reveals, amid the enfolding gloom, br the smoky joists of the familiar room: br and while thy supper-song is shrilling thro' br that well-kept nook, my musing shall renew br its kindred of romance, the friendly throng br that haunts the winters when the nights are long. br br Dusk lowers in this uneasy pause of rain; br a blackness clings and thickens on the pane br and damp grows; westward only, watery pale, br two yellow streaks, wan glory, slowly fail: br night shall be loud and thick with driving spears. — br And this was also in the haunting years br this life hath never known, nor this abode, br when the lone window watch'd the lonely road br winding into the exiled west, across br the desolate plain, with, seldom on its fosse br tipt black against grey gloom, a poplar spire; br and I could know the sunset's broken fire br burn'd sombrely in many a leaden glass br whose look was dead amid the morbid grass br where never a dancing foot of harvest came br and ways were lost, a land of vanish'd name.


User: PoemHunter.com

Views: 2

Uploaded: 2014-11-10

Duration: 02:13

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