Home In A Cottage
I knew by the smoke, that so gracefully curled
Above the green elms, that a cottage was near,
And I said, “If there’s peace to be found in the world,
A heart that is humble might hope for it here!”
It was noon, and on the flowers that languished around
In silence reposed the voluptuous bee;
Every leaf was at rest, and I heard not a sound
But the woodpecker tapping the hollow beech-tree.
And, “Here in this lone little wood,” I exclaimed,
“With a maid who was lovely to soul and to eye,
Who would blush when I praised her, and weep if I blamed,
How blest could I live, and how calm could I die!”
—Thomas Moore.
A Cottage Lone And Still
If there were dreams to sell,
Merry and sad to tell,
And the crier rang the bell,
What would you buy?
A cottage lone and still
With bowers nigh,
Shadowy, my woes to still,
Until I die.
Such pearl from Life’s fresh crown
Fain would I shake me down.
Were dreams to have at will
This would best heal my ill,
This would I buy.
—T. L. Beddoes.
Alternate Reading: Romans 11: 25-36.