He could not credit it, and misery fed
Upon his spirit, day by day it grew.
To Gervase he forbade the house, and led
The Lady Eunice such a life she flew
At his approaching footsteps. Winter came
Snowing and blustering through the Manor trees.
All the roof-edges spiked with icicles
In fluted companies.
The Lady Eunice with her tambour-frame
Kept herself sighing company. The flame
Of the birch fire glittered on the walls.
Pickthorn Manor: 56
Amy Lowell
(1)
Poem topics: fire, house, life, winter, spirit, roof, flame, company, lady, Valentine's Day, Print This Poem , Rhyme Scheme
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