BEFORE the hearth I dream of many things. The red-eyed embers glow, dull down, expire; An evanescent life in each, that brings Sad omens for the Life that men desire. Will it not end in ashes, like the fire? Not death is here, but change! Each spark that gleams Is pent-up sunlight, and the back-log's tune Repeats the music of the woods and streams. Bend low and listen; it is Nature's rune, Singing of summer, chanting soft of June. | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...THE EAGLE'S SONG by RICHARD MANSFIELD THE ALLIGATOR by BEATRICE WITTE RAVENEL TWO SONNETS: 2 by GEORGE BARLOW (1847-1913) BAB-LOCK-HYTHE by LAURENCE BINYON TOWARDS DEMOCRACY: PART 4. EASTER DAY ON MT. MOUNIER by EDWARD CARPENTER SUB DIVO by SAMUEL VALENTINE COLE |