The Hermit

Out of the north wind’s fury,

    Out of the rout and storm;

Snuggled within the cottage,

    Coiled in the ingle warm;

How the old days obsess one!

    How the old memories swarm!

 

How the old days obsess one;

    Flickers the flame up high;

How the old loves caress one,

    Loves of the days gone by;

And the corners are full of shadows

    And wraith, that move and sigh.

 

And the corners are full of shadows,

    And my eyes smart with the smoke,

And a lump in my throat has risen

    And grown till I nearly choke;

And the dog that was crouched beside me

    Has started and half awoke.

 

When the doors to the past swing open

    And days that I one time knew,

And friends that made them happy

    With laugh and song, swarm through,

It is then that the blood runs riot

    And warms as it used to do.

 

How the old days obsess one!

    Ways all drenched with dew,

A world rain-washed and glowing,

    Skies pink and azure blue,

Bird calls that lilt and echo,

    And woods that coax and woo.

 

The north wind shrieks in fury,

    The flickering flame leaps high,

And the smoke, blown outward, eddies

    And smart and bedims the eye;

And out of the corner shadows

    Comes the wraith of a laugh and sigh.

 

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