O WOOD, burn bright; O flame, be quick; O smoke, draw cleanly up the flue -- My lady chose your every brick And sets her dearest hopes on you! Logs cannot burn, nor tea be sweet, Nor white bread turn to crispy toast, Until the charm be made complete By love, to lay the sooty ghost. And then, dear books, dear waiting chairs, Dear china and mahogany, Draw close, for on the happy stairs My brown-eyed girl comes down for tea! | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...CHAMBER MUSIC: 22 by JAMES JOYCE ON BRODSKY'S COLLECTED by MICHAEL S. HARPER THE SUICIDE by JAMES WELDON JOHNSON BALLROOM DARK by CLARENCE MAJOR THE COTTON CLUB by CLARENCE MAJOR A JOYFUL SONG OF FIVE by KATHERINE MANSFIELD NORTH WIND TO DUTIFUL BEAST MIDWAY BETWEEN DIAL & FOOT OF GARDEN CLOCK by MARIANNE MOORE |