UNDER the eaves is the haunt I love! With the outer world a myth, With the cloud-sea drowning the stars above, And the day work over with; To lean me back with my thoughts in tune, To feel from my cares aloof, To hear o'erhead in a soothing rune The rain on the roof. 'Tis a magic realm, where I am king; I can live a whole life through In a transient hour, and my dreamings bring Delight that is ever new; And the cries without of the weather wild Seem all for my sole behoof; And it makes my heart the heart of a child, The rain on the roof. My wonder-book it is nigh at hand, The drip-drip lulls me to rest, Like a music soft and a spirit bland, And a comrade whose way is best. So I see but the fair, smooth face of Life, Forgetting its cloven hoof, As I lie and list to the wind's wild strife, The rain on the roof. For old-time voices and boyhood calls, Laughter silver and tears, All float in as the evening falls And summons the vanished years. Though the warp be somber that binds me round, Yet a sweet and shining woof Is woven in with that winsome sound, The rain on the roof. | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...CREDO by WILLIAM ARTHUR DUNKERLEY A FAREWELL TO LONDON IN THE YEAR 1715 by ALEXANDER POPE STILL FALLS THE RAIN; THE RAIDS, 1940. NIGHT AND DAWN by EDITH SITWELL THE HERITAGE FOREGONE by WILLIAM ROSE BENET ON SEEING AN OLD POET IN THE CAFE ROYAL by JOHN BETJEMAN OCTOER WOODS by EMMA INGOLD BOST |