Not in this chamber only at my birth -- When the long hours of that mysterious night Were over, and the morning was in sight -- I cried, but in strange places, steppe and firth I have not seen, through alien grief and mirth; And never shall one room contain me quite Who in so many rooms first saw the light, Child of all mothers, native of the earth. So is no warmth for me at any fire To-day, when the world's fire has burned so low; I kneel, spending my breath in vain desire, At that cold hearth which one time roared so strong, And straighten back in weariness, and long To gather up my little gods and go. | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...THE QUALITY OF COURAGE by STEPHEN VINCENT BENET NORTH WINTER by HAYDEN CARRUTH SPEAKING TERMS by JAMES GALVIN TO MARY CHURCH TERRELL - LECTURER by GEORGIA DOUGLAS JOHNSON LINCOLN TRIUMPHANT by EDWIN MARKHAM SPOON RIVER ANTHOLOGY: JACOB GODBEY by EDGAR LEE MASTERS |