O WOOD, burn bright; O flame, be quick; O smoke, draw cleanly up the flue -- My lady chose your every brick And sets her dearest hopes on you! Logs cannot burn, nor tea be sweet, Nor white bread turn to crispy toast, Until the charm be made complete By love, to lay the sooty ghost. And then, dear books, dear waiting chairs, Dear china and mahogany, Draw close, for on the happy stairs My brown-eyed girl comes down for tea! | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...THE SWORD AND THE SICKLE by WILLIAM BLAKE THE THANKSGIVING IN BOSTON HARBOR [JUNE 12, 1630] by HEZEKIAH BUTTERWORTH SING-SONG; A NURSERY RHYME BOOK: 93 by CHRISTINA GEORGINA ROSSETTI SONGS OF NIGHT TO MORNING: 2. AND YET by GEORGE BARLOW (1847-1913) THE SIGHING TIME by EDMUND CHARLES BLUNDEN |