 | Songs of the silent world and other poems |  |
95
SONG.
The firelight listens on the floor
To hear the wild winds blow.
Within, the bursting roses burn,
Without, there slides the snow.
To hear the wild winds blow.
Within, the bursting roses burn,
Without, there slides the snow.
Across the flower I see the flake
Pass mirrored, mystic, slow.
Oh, blooms and storms must blush and freeze,
While seasons come and go!
Pass mirrored, mystic, slow.
Oh, blooms and storms must blush and freeze,
While seasons come and go!
I lift the sash—and live, the gale
Comes leaping to my call.
The rose is but a painted one
That hangs upon the wall.
Comes leaping to my call.
The rose is but a painted one
That hangs upon the wall.
| Songs of the silent world and other poems | |