Explore "The House of Change" by Francis Sherman on Textopian. Read with annotations and highlights.
Was it last Autumn only, when I stood / At the field's edge, and watched the red glow creep / Among the leaves, and saw the swift flame sweep / From spruce to hemlock, till the living wood / Became a devastated solitude?
For now, behold, old seeds, long years asleep, / Wake; and a legion of young birches leap / To life, and tell the ashes life is good.
O Love of long ago, when this mad fire / Is over, and the ruins of my soul / With the Spring wind the old quest would resume, -- / When age knocks at the inn of youth's desire, / Shall the new growth, now worthier of the goal, / Find still untenanted the chosen room?