Interior
Her mind lives in a quiet room,
A narrow room, and tall,
With pretty lamps to quench the gloom And mottoes on the wall
There all the things are waxen neat And set in decorous lines;
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Her mind lives in a quiet room,
A narrow room, and tall,
With pretty lamps to quench the gloom And mottoes on the wall
There all the things are waxen neat And set in decorous lines;
Light the first light of
In which we rest and, for small reason,
The world imagined is the ultimate good
This is, therefore, the intensest rendezvous
The gaunt brown
Look infinite in their decent meanness
There is nothing of home in the noisy kettle,
The fulsome fire
It sheds a shy solemnity,
This lamp in our poor room
O grey and gold amenity, —Silence and gentle gloom
Wide from the world, a stolen