Our little house upon the hill In winter time is strangely still; The roof tree, bare of leaves, stands high, A candelabrum for the sky, And down below the lamplights glow, And ours makes answer o'er the snow. Our little house upon the hill In summer time strange voices fill; With ceaseless rustle of the leaves, And birds that twitter in the eaves, And all the vines entangled so The village lights no longer show. Our little house upon the hill Is just the house of Jack and Jill, And whether showing or unseen, Hid behind its leafy screen; There's a star that points it out When the lamp lights are in doubt. | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...OPPOSITES by KATHERINE MANSFIELD COLORS by STEPHEN VINCENT BENET DOMESDAY BOOK: ELENOR MURRAY by EDGAR LEE MASTERS DOMESDAY BOOK: REV. PERCY FERGUSON by EDGAR LEE MASTERS SPOON RIVER ANTHOLOGY: REV. LEMUEL WILEY by EDGAR LEE MASTERS |