I The thorn that by the wayside grows Comforts the pilgrim with a rose. Do thou, like him, to charm thy gloom Perceive the sweetness of this room. II If thou perchance shouldst see a face Smile at thee from an empty space, Or feel some presence, do not fear, Those ghosts are kind that loiter here. III I met a stranger in this room, He moved about and seemed at home. "Good sir," said I, "what dost thou here?" He turned a pleasant face and said, "A hundred years have I been dead." | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...THESEUS by THOMAS STURGE MOORE VERSES ADDRESSED TO IMITATOR OF FIRST SATIRE OF HORACE by MARY WORTLEY MONTAGU MOTHER HEART by NELLIE COOLEY ALDER MASKS by THOMAS BAILEY ALDRICH TO WILLIAM WORDSWORTH; ON THE PUBLICATION OF HIS POEM, 'PETER BELL' by BERNARD BARTON ON A BIOGRAPHICAL DICTIONARY by EDMUND CHARLES BLUNDEN |