Explore "Song" by Elizabeth Stuart Phelps Ward on Textopian. Read with annotations and highlights.
The firelight listens on the floor / To hear the wild winds blow. / Within, the bursting roses burn, / Without, there slides the snow.
Across the flower I see the flake / Pass mirrored, mystic, slow. / Oh, blooms and storms must blush and freeze, / While seasons come and go!
I lift the sash -- and live, the gale / Comes leaping to my call. / The rose is but a painted one / That hangs upon the wall.