Explore "Sweet Hours" by Carmen Sylva on Textopian. Read with annotations and highlights.
The shadow of your threshold is so full / Of meaning, that the stranger knows what home / Is yours, if peace dwell here, or strife, or restless / Unsatisfied ambition. As the tree's / Deep shadow meaneth rest and comfort, or / Is poison, sleep eternal, such the house / That is a home's sweet shadow or a dark / Abode of sin, of lurking lie and danger.
The shadow of your life, that is so small / In bright midday and summer's burning sun, / Begins to lengthen when your evening comes, / And shows the beauty of the tree in outline, / Its graceful forms, its harmony and power; / And never did its beauty strike before, / As now, when lost in thought, you contemplate / The shadow on the lawn. The golden rays / That flood it, make it higher, nobler, and / Its shadow ever greater, till the night / Calls forth the moon, to make it deep and weird / As if unspoken pain had darkened it, / As if the silvery paleness of the moon / Sharpened its features into hardness almost.