98
IN AN ATTIC.
IN AN ATTIC.
HIS is my attic room. Sit down, my friend.My swallow's nest is high and hard to gain;
The stairs are long and steep; but at the end
The rest repays the pain.
For here are peace and freedom; room for speech
Or silence, as may suit a changeful mood:
Society's hard by-laws do not reach
This lofty altitude.
Or silence, as may suit a changeful mood:
Society's hard by-laws do not reach
This lofty altitude.
You hapless dwellers in the lower rooms
See only bricks and sand and windowed walls;
But here, above the dust and smoky glooms,
Heaven's light unhindered falls.
See only bricks and sand and windowed walls;
But here, above the dust and smoky glooms,
Heaven's light unhindered falls.
So early in the street the shadows creep,
Your night begins while yet my eyes behold
The purpling hills, the wide horizon's sweep,
Flooded with sunset gold.
Your night begins while yet my eyes behold
The purpling hills, the wide horizon's sweep,
Flooded with sunset gold.
