I lived with Pride; the house was hung With tapestries of rich design. Of many houses, this among Them all was richest, and 'twas mine. But in the chambers burned no fire, Tho' all the furniture was gold: I sickened of fulfilled desire, The House of Pride was very cold. I lived with Knowledge; very high Her house rose on a mountain's side. I watched the stars roll through the sky, I read the scroll of Time flung wide. But in that house, austere and bare, No children played, no laughter clear Was heard, no voice of mirth was there, The House was high but very drear. I lived with Love; all she possest Was but a tent beside a stream. She warmed my cold hands in her breast, She wove around my sleep a dream. And One there was with face divine Who softly came, when day was spent, And turned our water into wine, And made our life a sacrament. | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...SUMMER SHOWER by EMILY DICKINSON ELEGY WRITTEN IN A COUNTRY CHURCHYARD by THOMAS GRAY A SHROPSHIRE LAD: 44 by ALFRED EDWARD HOUSMAN A DEDICATION by ALFRED TENNYSON REMEMBER WITH A SONG by STEWART ATKINS HINTS OF AN HISTORICAL PLAY TO BE CALLED WILLIAM RUFUS by RICHARD HARRIS BARHAM |