NOW that the chill October day is declining, Pull the blinds, draw each voluminous curtain Till the room is full of gloom and of the uncertain Gleams of firelight on polished edges shining. Then bring the rosy lamp to its wonted station On the dark-gleaming table. In that soft splendour Well-known things of the room, grown deep and tender, Gather around, a mysterious congregation:— Pallid sheen of silver, the bright brass fender, The wine-red pool of carpet, the bowl of roses Lustrous-hearted, crimsons and purples looming From dusky rugs and curtains. Nothing discloses The unseen walls but the broken, richly-glooming Gold of frames and opulent wells of mingling Dim colours gathered in darkened mirrors. And breaking The dreamlike spell and out of your deep chair moving You go, perhaps, to the shelves and, slowly singling Some old rich-blazoned book, return. But the gleaming Spells close round you again and you fall to dreaming, Eyes grow dim, the book on your lap unheeded. | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...WOMAN'S INCONSTANCY by ROBERT AYTON LONDON, FR. SONGS OF EXPERIENCE by WILLIAM BLAKE A CANADIAN BOAT SONG; WRITTEN ON THE RIVER ST. LAWRENCE by THOMAS MOORE THE NEW SIRENS: A PALINODE by MATTHEW ARNOLD THE SECOND BROTHER; ACT 2, SCENE 1 by THOMAS LOVELL BEDDOES THE LATE STAND-TO by EDMUND CHARLES BLUNDEN SONG OF THE WHITE COMPANY by HARRY RANDOLPH BLYTHE THE WANDERER: 1. IN ITALY: THE LAST MESSAGE by EDWARD ROBERT BULWER-LYTTON |