This is the house where I was bred:
The wind blows through it without stint,
The wind bitten by the roadside mint;
Here brake I loaf, here climbed to bed.
The fuchsia on the window sill;
Even the candlesticks a-row,
Wrought by grave men so long ago -
I loved them once, I love them still.
Southward and westward a great sky! -
The throb of sea within mine ear -
Then something different, more near,
As though a wistful foot went by.
Ghost of a ghost down all the years! -
In low-roofed room, at turn of stair,
At table-setting, and at prayer,
Old wars, old hungers, and old tears!
Writ In A Book Of Welsh Verse
Lizette Woodworth Reese
(1)
Poem topics: house, sea, sky, long, great, room, grave, window, prayer, love, wind, I love you, ghost, Print This Poem , Rhyme Scheme
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