I The thorn that by the wayside grows Comforts the pilgrim with a rose. Do thou, like him, to charm thy gloom Perceive the sweetness of this room. II If thou perchance shouldst see a face Smile at thee from an empty space, Or feel some presence, do not fear, Those ghosts are kind that loiter here. III I met a stranger in this room, He moved about and seemed at home. "Good sir," said I, "what dost thou here?" He turned a pleasant face and said, "A hundred years have I been dead." | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...INDIAN SUMMER by EMILY DICKINSON GREENWOOD CEMETERY by CRAMMOND KENNEDY CYNTHIA SPORTING by PHILIP AYRES THE FOUR ZOAS: NIGHTS THE SEVENTH AND EIGHTH by WILLIAM BLAKE SANDY STAR: 3. EXIT by WILLIAM STANLEY BRAITHWAITE ADDRESS TO BEELZEBUB by ROBERT BURNS THAT GRAY, COLD CHRISTMAS DAY (DECEMBER 25, 1620) by HEZEKIAH BUTTERWORTH A COWBOY'S PRAYER (WRITTEN FOR MOTHER) by CHARLES BADGER CLARK JR. |