Classic Poem

Musing
I lie;
My eye
Piercing the gloom
To yonder room
Where round the evening lamp
Lies our domestic camp.
Bivouacked about, each with some task,
In the warm, golden light they bask.
The sisters bend above their study books
The brother reads, and mother, with sweet looks
Her glasses cannot hide, is busy with her knitting;
Father, with meerschaum pipe and paper, near her sitting.
I would that I might keep forevermore
The picture as I see it through the door;
For, by its aid, in some dark hour,
I may discern, by the same power,
In one fair horoscope
Love, memory, and hope
Around some light,
And make life bright
When I
Shall lie
Musing.