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Christopher Brennan - "Once I could sit by the fire hourlong when the dripping eaves . ."
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Once I could sit by the fire hourlong when the dripping eaves 
 sang cheer to the shelter`d, and listen, and know that the woods drank full, 
 and think of the morn that was coming and how the freshen`d leaves 
 would glint in the sun and the dusk beneath would be bright and cool. 
 Now, when I hear, I am cold within: for my mind drifts wide 
 where the blessing is shed for naught on the salt waste of the sea, 
 on the valleys that hold no rest and the hills that may not abide: 
 and the fire loses its warmth and my home is far from me.
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