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Home  »  library  »  poem  »  Fires

C.D. Warner, et al., comp. The Library of the World’s Best Literature.
An Anthology in Thirty Volumes. 1917.

Fires

By Wilfrid Wilson Gibson (1878–1962)

SNUG in my easy chair,

I stirred the fire to flame.

Fantastically fair,

The flickering fancies came,

Born of heart’s desire:

Amber woodland streaming;

Topaz islands dreaming;

Sunset-cities gleaming,

Spire on burning spire;

Ruddy-windowed taverns;

Sunshine-spilling wines;

Crystal-lighted caverns

Of Golconda’s mines;

Summers, unreturning;

Passion’s crater yearning;

Troy, the ever-burning;

Shelley’s lustral pyre;

Dragon-eyes, unsleeping;

Witches’ cauldrons leaping;

Golden galleys sweeping

Out from sea-walled Tyre:

Fancies, fugitive and fair,

Flashed with singing through the air;

Till, dazzled by the drowsy glare,

I shut my eyes to heat and light;

And saw, in sudden night,

Crouched in the dripping dark,

With steaming shoulders stark,

The man who hews the coal to feed my fire.