BEFORE the hearth I dream of many things. The red-eyed embers glow, dull down, expire; An evanescent life in each, that brings Sad omens for the Life that men desire. Will it not end in ashes, like the fire? Not death is here, but change! Each spark that gleams Is pent-up sunlight, and the back-log's tune Repeats the music of the woods and streams. Bend low and listen; it is Nature's rune, Singing of summer, chanting soft of June. | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...IN THE TRENCHES by RICHARD ALDINGTON AN EXPATIATION ON THE COMBINING OF WEATHERS AT THIRTY .... by HAYDEN CARRUTH THE CHAM TOWERS AT DA NANG by KAREN SWENSON OF THE MEAN AND SURE ESTATE by THOMAS WYATT HERITAGE by GWENDOLYN B. BENNETT SONG, FR. ERNEST MALTRAVERS by EDWARD GEORGE EARLE LYTTON BULWER-LYTTON SONNET: IN ABSENCE FROM BECCHINA by CECCO ANGIOLIERI DA SIENA EPITAPHS OF THE WAR, 1914-18: CONVOY ESCORT by RUDYARD KIPLING |