University of Virginia Library

THE LAMP IN THE WINDOW.

I LIGHT MY HOMELY LAMP AGAIN TONIGHT,
AND SAY“—PERHAPS A WANDERING ONE GOES BY,
HURRIED PAST DOOR-WAYS WHERE THE WATCH-DOGS GROWL—”
THE HEARTHS THE STRANGER DARES NOT COME ANIGH.
WE SIT IN STOLID CIRCLE AT THE BOARD,
AND NEVER A SON OR DAUGHTER TELLS A TALE.
THE FAITHFUL MOTHER FINDS NO CHEER IN TOIL,
OUR ROSY INFANT'S CROW CAN NAUGHT AVAIL.
THE COUNTRYSIDE GROWS DULL WITH HOMES UNSTIRRED.
THE PREACHER PRATES IN LONG-FAMILIAR WORDS.
THE NEIGHBORS COME, WITH WOODEN EYES, TO TALK
OF WEEDS AND FENCES, BARNS AND FLOCKS AND HERDS.
PERHAPS TONIGHT WITHIN THE SOAKING RAIN
SOME STORM-BLOWN BOY MOVES ON THAT WE SHOULD KEEP.
TO BRING US LAUGHTER ROUND OUR ROARING STOVE,
TO SHOW US WHY WE SOW AND WHY WE REAP.
TONIGHT, PERCHANCE, A CONQUERING ONE RETURNS,
MASTER OF WEARINESS AND FATE AND PAIN
WITHIN HIS POCKET NOTE-BOOKS OF HIS LORE,
WITHIN HIS SOUL GREAT PASSIONS HELD IN REIN.
PERHAPS, TONIGHT SOME WILD MAN PASSES BY,
BEARING WISE PARCHMENTS FROM OLD CITIES GRIM,
OR, IT MAY BE, A BETTER LAMP THAN MINE
MORE LIKE ALADDIN'S, NOT, LIKE THIS ONE, DIM.
ALL IT WILL NEED, THE OIL AND WICK AND FLAME,
AND SHELTERED ROOM TO KEEP THE WIND AWAY
I CAN PROVIDE AH, IF A LAMP HE BRINGS,
IT SHALL BE TRIMMED AND BURNISHED EVERY DAY!