POEMS.
69
Too soon the day was ended; twilight spread
Her filmy veil o'er those old worlds that keep
The golden sunset Art weaves round the dead
Of consecrated sleep!
Her filmy veil o'er those old worlds that keep
The golden sunset Art weaves round the dead
Of consecrated sleep!
AT MY FIRESIDE.
'TIS midnight, and the silent shadows creep
Adown the stairs and through the old oak hall;
The firelight, its bright streamers seem to keep
Both watch and ward upon the wainscot wall,
Where many a fair picture rests serene—
Faces that smiled once in the long ago.
Here hangs a knight, and there a dainty queen,
And here a lassie that I used to know;
A landscape by some gifted hand looks down
From a recess, and opposite one sees
A stretch of mountains and of heather brown,
And further on a glimpse of tall pine trees.
And all are mirrored in the flickering light,
And from the canvas look as they must start
To life again, this cold, calm winter night,
And nestle closelier down unto my heart.
Adown the stairs and through the old oak hall;
The firelight, its bright streamers seem to keep
Both watch and ward upon the wainscot wall,
Where many a fair picture rests serene—
Faces that smiled once in the long ago.
Here hangs a knight, and there a dainty queen,
And here a lassie that I used to know;
A landscape by some gifted hand looks down
From a recess, and opposite one sees
A stretch of mountains and of heather brown,
And further on a glimpse of tall pine trees.
And all are mirrored in the flickering light,
And from the canvas look as they must start
To life again, this cold, calm winter night,
And nestle closelier down unto my heart.
I sit before my faithfullest of friends,
The fire that warms me with a fairy glow;
Each burning coal a cheery aspect bends
Upon me as I see old faces come and go,
The fire that warms me with a fairy glow;
Each burning coal a cheery aspect bends
Upon me as I see old faces come and go,
