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The
Book of the Rose
by
Charles G.D. Roberts
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THE
HOUSE
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heart is a house, deep-walled and warm,
To cover you from
the night of storm.
O
little wild feet, too softly white
To roam the world's tempestuous night,
The years like sleet on my windows beat,—
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5 |
Come
in and be cherished, O little wild feet.
My heart is a house,
deep-walled and warm,
To cover you from
the night of storm.
In the hillside hollow each lonely flower
Is closed against the disastrous hour.
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10 |
The
wet crow rocks in the wind-blown tree;
The tern drivers in from the lashing sea.
My heart is a house,
deep-walled and warm,
To cover you from
the night of storm.
Down from the naked heights of cloud
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15 |
Care
and despair cry low, cry loud.
The dark woods mutter with thronging fears;
The rocks are drenched with the rain of tears.
My heart is a house,
deep-walled and warm,
To cover you from
the night of storm. |
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O little
dark head, too dear and fair
For the buffeting skies and the bitter air,
Time sweeps the wold with his wings of dread,—
Come in and be comforted, little dark head.
My heart is a house,
deep-walled and warm,
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25 |
| To
cover you from the night of storm. |
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