Page:Themes and variations (IA themesvariations00wils).pdf/81
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At Home.
69
Still half the fields return the sun,
Still laughs the running wheat:
The bird sings on,—one sheet of fame!
And now the thunders meet.
Still laughs the running wheat:
The bird sings on,—one sheet of fame!
And now the thunders meet.
But up within the turret-room
How still it is, how warm!
Shut, like the water-lily’s cup
That closes in the storm.
How still it is, how warm!
Shut, like the water-lily’s cup
That closes in the storm.
A kitten coiled upon the chair,
A half-wrought broidery,
Books on the wall—and passing dreams,
Perchance a dream of me!
A half-wrought broidery,
Books on the wall—and passing dreams,
Perchance a dream of me!
You hear no knock, no creaking door,
No foot upon the stair,
But love has stolen the key of thought,
Before you know he’s there.
No foot upon the stair,
But love has stolen the key of thought,
Before you know he’s there.