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Themes and Variations
AT HOME.
High in her little rose-clad room
Niched in the winding stair,
My lady sits and looks abroad
On the wind’s thoraughfare.
Niched in the winding stair,
My lady sits and looks abroad
On the wind’s thoraughfare.
The roof is tined with cedar wood,
The panels golden pine,
The lattice set with lozenges,
And hung with crimson fine.
The panels golden pine,
The lattice set with lozenges,
And hung with crimson fine.
The pear-tree wraps her oriel;
Musk fills the window frame;
Her paroquet sits in the ring,
And twitters out her name.
Musk fills the window frame;
Her paroquet sits in the ring,
And twitters out her name.
The circling landscape underneath
Glows through its misty veil;
The thunder-cloud against the wind
Beats up, a blackening sail.
Glows through its misty veil;
The thunder-cloud against the wind
Beats up, a blackening sail.
The sea, that shone like silver scales,
Fades, tarnished by its breath;
The shaking poplar turns her face
As in a wind of death.
Fades, tarnished by its breath;
The shaking poplar turns her face
As in a wind of death.