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by the fireside.
BY THE FIRESIDE.
WHAT is it fades and nickers in the fire,
Mutters and sighs, and yields reluctant breath,
As if in the red embers some desire,
Some word prophetic, burned, defying death?
Mutters and sighs, and yields reluctant breath,
As if in the red embers some desire,
Some word prophetic, burned, defying death?
Lords of the forest, stalwart oak and pine,
Lie down for us in flames of martyrdom:
A human, household warmth, their death-fires shine;
Yet fragrant with high memories they come;
Lie down for us in flames of martyrdom:
A human, household warmth, their death-fires shine;
Yet fragrant with high memories they come;
Bringing the mountain-winds that in their boughs
Sang of the torrent, and the plashy edge
Of storm-swept lakes; and echoes that arouse
The eagles from some splintered eyrie-ledge;
Sang of the torrent, and the plashy edge
Of storm-swept lakes; and echoes that arouse
The eagles from some splintered eyrie-ledge;
And breath of violets sweet about their roots;
And earthy odors of the moss and fern;
And hum of rivulets; smell of ripening fruits;
And green leaves that to gold and crimson turn.
And earthy odors of the moss and fern;
And hum of rivulets; smell of ripening fruits;
And green leaves that to gold and crimson turn.
