I CLOSE the book, thee in it, gentle mime, In undisturbed seclusion hid away 'Twixt dulled moroccos where shall none gainsay Thine obvious humor of a simpler time: So an old grandsire's chimney-corner rime, Secure in smiles of those who love him, may Never on cold, unkindred hearing play, But live alway its crisp and mirthful prime. There waits bold, pleasant wit all undismayed, Unconscious of this devious age of ours, Forever alien to our sighs and tears; And there the sweep of fair, antique brocade, The undying perfume of forgotten flowers, And laughter ringing faintly from old years. | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...CONTRA MORTEM: THE WHEEL OF BEING I by HAYDEN CARRUTH THE EXISTING POOL by HAYDEN CARRUTH IMAGINARY ANCESTORS: THE GIRAFFE WOMAN OF BURMA by MADELINE DEFREES OMNIPRESENCE by GEORGIA DOUGLAS JOHNSON DOMESDAY BOOK: CONSIDER FREELAND by EDGAR LEE MASTERS SPOON RIVER ANTHOLOGY: HENRY PHIPPS by EDGAR LEE MASTERS |