274
FROM HOUSE TO HOME.
And rest upon my thorn:
For verily I think to-morrow morn
Shall bring me Paradise, my gift's increase,
Yea, give Thy very Self to me.
For verily I think to-morrow morn
Shall bring me Paradise, my gift's increase,
Yea, give Thy very Self to me.
FROM HOUSE TO HOME.
THE first was like a dream through summer heat,
The second like a tedious numbing swoon,
While the half-frozen pulses lagged to beat
Beneath a winter moon.
The second like a tedious numbing swoon,
While the half-frozen pulses lagged to beat
Beneath a winter moon.
"But," says my friend, "what was this thing and where?"
It was a pleasure-place within my soul;
An earthly paradise supremely fair
That lured me from the goal.
It was a pleasure-place within my soul;
An earthly paradise supremely fair
That lured me from the goal.
The first part was a tissue of hugged lies;
The second was its ruin fraught with pain:
Why raise the fair delusion to the skies
But to be dashed again?
The second was its ruin fraught with pain:
Why raise the fair delusion to the skies
But to be dashed again?
My castle stood of white transparent glass
Glittering and frail with many a fretted spire,
But when the summer sunset came to pass
It kindled into fire.
Glittering and frail with many a fretted spire,
But when the summer sunset came to pass
It kindled into fire.
