MY dream-fruit tree a palace bore In stone's reality, And friends and treasure, art and lore Came in to dwell with me. But palaces for gods are made; I shrank to man, or less; Gold-barriered, yet chill, afraid,} My soul shook shelterless. I found a cottage in a wood, Warmed by a hearth and maid, And fed and slept, and said 'twas good,— Ah, love-nest in the shade! The walls grew close, the roof pressed low, Soft arms my jailers were; My naked soul arose to go, And shivered bright and bare. No more I sought for covert kind; The blast blew on my head; And lo, with tempest and with wind I felt me garmented. Here on the hills the writhing storm Cloaks well and shelters me; I wrap me round and I am warm,. Warm for eternity. | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...THE MARRIAGE VOW by LETITIA ELIZABETH LANDON EPIGRAM: 101 by MARCUS VALERIUS MARTIALIS THE TENT ON THE BEACH: 10. THE PALATINE by JOHN GREENLEAF WHITTIER ON MICHAEL ANGELO by WASHINGTON ALLSTON THE CHRYSANTHEMUMS by AUGUSTE ANGELLIER |