Contented evening; comfortable joys; The snoozing fire, and all the fields are still: Tranquil delight, no purpose, and no noise— Unless the slow wind flowing round the hill. 'Murry' (the kettle) dozes; little mouse Is rambling prudently about the floor. There's lovely conversation in this house: Words become princes that were slaves before. What a sweet atmosphere for you and me The people that have been here left behind.... Oh, but I fear it may turn out to be Built of a dream, erected in the mind: So if we speak too loud, we may awaken To find it vanished, and ourselves mistaken. | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...THE ANGEL, FR. SONGS OF EXPERIENCE by WILLIAM BLAKE ON HEARING OF INTENTION .. TO PURCHASE THE POET'S FREEDOM by GEORGE MOSES HORTON SWITZERLAND AND ITALY by RICHARD MONCKTON MILNES UPON A WASP CHILLED WITH COLD by EDWARD TAYLOR AN ARAB WELCOME by THOMAS BAILEY ALDRICH THE HAPPY NIGHTINGALE by PHILIP AYRES AUGUST SUNSET OVER LAKE CHAMPLAIN by FRANK A. BALCH ARISTOPHANES' APOLOGY; BEING THE LAST ADVENTURE OF BALAUSTION: PART 1 by ROBERT BROWNING |