Severe against the pleasant arc of sky The great stone box is cruelly displayed. The street becomes more dreary from its shade, And vagrant breezes touch its walls and die. Here sullen convicts in their chains might lie, Or slaves toil dumbly at some dreary trade. How worse than folly is their labor made Who cleft the rocks that this might rise on high! Yet, as I look, I see a woman's face Gleam from a window far above the street. This is a house of homes, a sacred place, By human passion made divinely sweet. How all the building thrills with sudden grace Beneath the magic of Love's golden feet! | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...BATTLEDORE AND SHUTTLECOCK by AMY LOWELL GARDEN FANCIES: 2. SIBRANDUS SCHAFNABURGENSIS by ROBERT BROWNING TWO LIVES: CONCLUSION. INDIAN SUMMER by WILLIAM ELLERY LEONARD HOME by LEONIDAS OF ALEXANDRIA PICCIOLA by ROBERT HENRY NEWELL PSALM OF THOSE WHO GO FORTH BEFORE DAYLIGHT by CARL SANDBURG |