THE wintry sky may be chill and drear, And the wind go sighing in mournful strain, Or it may be the spring of the waking year, When flowers and birds return again. Be it March or May, it matters not, Snow or violets on the ground, I know a little bewitching spot, Where it is fair the whole year round. A low tea-table set out for two, A divan with cushions piled on high, Dresden tea-cups of pink and blue, A fat little kettle simmering nigh, In winter a fire that cracks and roars, In summer a window where breezes play. What if it hails or snows or pours, In that little spot it is always May. A girl -- of course, you will say, when one Describes such a haven from life's mad whirl. There must be a -- wait till my song is done. This is @3such@1 an entrancing girl! Cheeks as fresh as a summer rose, Eyes that change like the changing sea, Lips where a smile first comes, then goes, And, oh! but she makes delicious tea. So we sit and talk while the kettle sings, And life seems better at least to me, The fleeting hours have golden wings, When in that little spot I'm drinking tea. Love? Ah, no, we are far above Such folly. Our time we can better spend. This world is brimming with loveless love, But 'tis rarely enough one finds a friend. | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...MADEIRA FROM THE SEA by SARA TEASDALE SONGS AND THE POET (FOR SARA TEASDALE) by LOUIS UNTERMEYER A MAN TO A WOMAN by WILLIAM CARLOS WILLIAMS A BALLAD OF THE BOSTON TEA-PARTY [DECEMBER 16, 1773] by OLIVER WENDELL HOLMES ON SEEING THE ELGIN MARBLES by JOHN KEATS TO THE RIVER CHARLES by HENRY WADSWORTH LONGFELLOW FOUR THINGS [TO DO] by HENRY VAN DYKE |