A dull, disheartening scene; and yet
This lesson we may learn:
Far down the chimneys' blackened throats
The hearth fires softly burn.
From stair to stair, down every flight,
They keep the secret fast
Of burned-out ash or ruddy glow—
Starved hearts or love at last.
This lesson we may learn:
Far down the chimneys' blackened throats
The hearth fires softly burn.
From stair to stair, down every flight,
They keep the secret fast
Of burned-out ash or ruddy glow—
Starved hearts or love at last.
And blackened roofs are shield'ng tents
Where hide from passing ken
The primrose joys of hope and peace
Or sins of soul-wrecked men
Who, like the caravans of old,
Rest in their tents a-day,
And then o'er time's uncharted sands
Slip silently away.
Where hide from passing ken
The primrose joys of hope and peace
Or sins of soul-wrecked men
Who, like the caravans of old,
Rest in their tents a-day,
And then o'er time's uncharted sands
Slip silently away.
Ah, sordid roofs and chimney tops
Up there in silhouette,
You keep a thousand loves and lies
And ghosts of old regrets!
The while the pigeons on the eaves
With snowy, folded wings,
Bear witness that mid soil and grime
May live the cleaner things.
Up there in silhouette,
You keep a thousand loves and lies
And ghosts of old regrets!
The while the pigeons on the eaves
With snowy, folded wings,
Bear witness that mid soil and grime
May live the cleaner things.
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