A snow-covered garden in pain, Lonely and sad, so cold it moaned; The sticks and stalks show plain Where roses and stocks had bloomed. Within the house was warmth and cheer; The fire burnt bright; of wood no dearth; Crackling, the backlog burns so clear, No fear of cold around the hearth. Out in the cold, my roses bare, They were pink and yellow and red, Planted twenty years ago, all fair In June when she and I were wed. The roses will bloom and fill their part When the garden is a glowing sight. Then is the time within my heart The wood of love burns strong and bright. The wood of love burns at its best When quenched not by the snow or rain, When fires of love within the breast Are free from envy, doubt and pain. There is a fire within my heart, Like the fire on the hearth burning; And every morn again I start That fire with a spark of loving. The fire that burns within my soul Makes of all life eternal time. The sun, the seed within the soil, The consciousness that all is mine. The soul within, without, doth light The fire within and I am -- I -- The fire upon the hearth is bright; Fades, -- but the I can never die. | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...A SKETCH by CHRISTINA GEORGINA ROSSETTI L.E.L. by CHRISTINA GEORGINA ROSSETTI WHEN YOU ARE OLD by WILLIAM BUTLER YEATS EMBLEMS OF LOVE: 35. PERSEVERE by PHILIP AYRES VERSES ON SEEING IN AN ALBUM A SKETCH OF AN OLD GATEWAY by BERNARD BARTON TO MR. BLEECKER, ON HIS PASSAGE TO NEW YORK by ANN ELIZA BLEECKER IN SOME FAR DISTANT TIME by CATHERINE BRADSHAW |