The House Of Hospitalities
Here we broached the Christmas barrel,
Pushed up the charred log-ends;
Here we sang the Christmas carol,
And called in friends
Here we broached the Christmas barrel,
Pushed up the charred log-ends;
Here we sang the Christmas carol,
And called in friends
We knew that land once,
You and I,and once we wandered therein the long days now long gone by,a dark child and a fair
Was it on the paths of firelight thoughtin winter cold and white,or in the blue-spun twilit hoursof little early tucked...
This being human is a guest house
Every morning a new arrival
A joy, a depression, a meanness,some momentary awareness
As an unexpected visitor
MS who journey in the narrow way,
Should go as little cumbered as they may
'Tis heavy sailing with a freighted ship ;'Tis pleasant travelling with a staff and scrip
Gold clogs the path, dispose it how we will ;
There fared a mother driven
Out of an inn to roam;
In the place where she was
All men are at home
Of the old house, only a few, crumbled Courses of brick, smothered in nettle and dock,
Or a shaped stone lying mossy where it tumbled
Sprawling bramble and saucy thistle mock What once was fire-lit floor and private charm,
Whence, s...
A Sonnet is a moment's monument,—Memorial from the Soul's
To one dead deathless hour
Look that it be,
Whether for lustral rite or dire portent,
In Arthur's house whileome was
When happily the time went
In midmost glory of his days
He held his court then in a
We caught the tread of dancing feet,
We loitered down the moonlit street,
And stopped beneath the harlot's house
Inside, above the din and fray,
Within this sober Frame
Work of no Forrain Architect;
That unto Caves the Quarries drew,
And Forrests did to Pastures hew;
RE was a house, a house of clay, Wherein the inmate sat all day, Merry and poor; For Hope sat with her, heart to heart, Fond and kind, fond and kind, Vowing he never would depart, — Till all at once he changed his mind: "Sweetheart, good by
Is it only twelve mont' I play de fool, You're sure it 's correc' , ma dear
I 'm glad for hearin' you spik dat way For I t'ink it was twenty year,
Since leffin' de leetle ole house below, I mak' wit' ma own two han'For go on dat fine bee...