HERE is the quiet refuge I have made: Four even walls to shut the world from sight, Ceiled with a high white roof, securely laid, Windowed to hold the ever-changing light. And when the wind must clamor to get in, And storms foam high upon the window-pane, I can build up my fire—I can begin Some ancient tale to dull the sound of rain. Yet here to stand defenseless in the gloom Shaken with every tempest-wind of thought— With no safe refuge of an inner room, Nor sure defense, of many dreamed and sought— Baffled, for some vain pride I lift my head, Yet wish to break, or to be old, or dead. | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...THREE SONNETS by RICHARD WILBUR DESPAIR by GEORGIA DOUGLAS JOHNSON GOAL by GEORGIA DOUGLAS JOHNSON TO ABRAHAM LINCOLN by GEORGIA DOUGLAS JOHNSON ATELIER CEZANNE by CLARENCE MAJOR STUDY FOR A GEOGRAPHICAL TRAIL; 1. SEATTLE by CLARENCE MAJOR |