 | The poetical works of Lucy Larcom |  |
THE LITTLE BROWN CABIN.
I dream of it, tossing about in my skiff,
The little brown cabin just under the cliff;
The wild rose blown in at the window I see,
And Rose at the door, looking out after me:
My sweetheart, my wife,
The Rose of my life!
The little brown cabin just under the cliff;
The wild rose blown in at the window I see,
And Rose at the door, looking out after me:
My sweetheart, my wife,
The Rose of my life!
The sun in the doorway strikes gold from her hair;
The breeze fills the little brown house with salt air,
And she leans to its breath, as if over the sea
It were bringing a kiss and a message from me;
My pretty wild Rose,
The sweetest that grows!
The breeze fills the little brown house with salt air,
And she leans to its breath, as if over the sea
It were bringing a kiss and a message from me;
My pretty wild Rose,
The sweetest that grows!
I have not one wish from my darling apart,
The thought of her sweetens my soul and my heart;
And my boat like a bird flies across the blue sea
To the little brown cabin where Rose waits for me:
The Rose of my life,
My own blessed wife!
The thought of her sweetens my soul and my heart;
And my boat like a bird flies across the blue sea
To the little brown cabin where Rose waits for me:
The Rose of my life,
My own blessed wife!
And hark—the gay voice of the skipper's bride!
The sea is but a wild delight to her,
Companion of her childhood, and its toy.
She loves no landsman, but her mariner
Lives in her heart, the very soul of the sea!
The sea is but a wild delight to her,
Companion of her childhood, and its toy.
She loves no landsman, but her mariner
Lives in her heart, the very soul of the sea!
| The poetical works of Lucy Larcom | |