64515: The Cottage

<p dir="ltr"> Here in turn succeed and rule<br> Carter, smith, and village fool,<br> Then again the place is known<br> As tavern, shop, and Sunday-school;<br> Now somehow it's come to me<br> To light the fire and hold the key,<br> Here in Heaven to reign alone.<br> All the walls are white with lime,<br> Big blue periwinkles climb<br> And kiss the crumbling window-sill;<br> Snug inside I sit and rhyme,<br> Planning poem, book, or fable,<br> At my darling beech-wood table<br> Fresh with bluebells from the hill.<br> Through the window I can see<br> Rooks above the cherry-tree,<br> Sparrows in the violet bed,<br> Bramble-bush and bumble-bee,<br> And old red bracken smoulders still<br> Among boulders on the hill,<br> Far too bright to seem quite dead.<br> But old Death, who can't forget,<br> Waits his time and watches yet,<br> Waits and watches by the door.<br> Look, he's got a great new net,<br> And when my fighting starts afresh<br> Stouter cord and smaller mesh<br> Won't be cheated as before.<br> Nor can kindliness of Spring,<br> Flowers that smile nor birds that sing,<br> Bumble-bee nor butterfly,<br> Nor grassy hill nor anything<br> Of magic keep me safe to rhyme<br> In this Heaven beyond my time.<br> No! for Death is waiting by.</p>