When you come in, it seems a brighter fire br Crackles upon the hearth invitingly, br The household routine which was wont to tire , br Grows full of novelty. br br You sit upon our home-upholstered chair br And talk of matters wonderful and strange, br Of books, and travel, customs old which dare br The gods of Time and Change. br br Till we with inner word our care refute br Laughing that this our bosoms yet assails, br While there are maidens dancing to a flute br In Andalusian vales. br br And sometimes from my shelf of poems you take br And secret meanings to our hearts disclose, br As when the winds of June the mid bush shake br We see the hidden rose. br br And when the shadows muster, and each tree br A moment flutters, full of shutting wings, br You take the fiddle and mysteriously br Wake wonders on the strings. br br br And in my garden, grey with misty flowers, br Low echoes fainter than a beetle's horn br Fill all the corners with it, like sweet showers br Of bells, in the owl's morn. br br Come often, friend, with welcome and surprise br We'll greet you from the sea or from the town; br Come when you like and from whatever skies br Above you smile or frown.