Classic Poem

HUSBAND TO WIFE

The daylight gains upon the night,
And birds are out in later flight;
'Tis cold enough to spread our hands,
Once now and then, to glowing brands.
So now we two are here alone
To make a quiet hour our own,
We'll take, with face to face, once more
Our places on the warm hearth floor,
Where you shall have the window view
Outside, and I can look on you.

When first I brought you home my bride,
In yellow glow of summer tide,
I wanted you to take a chair
On that side of the fire — out there —
And have the ground and sky in sight
With face against the window light;
While I back here should have my brow
In shade, and sit where I am now,
That you might see the land outside,
And I might look on you, my bride.

And there the gliding waters spread,
By waving elm-trees overhead,
Below the hill that slopes above
The path, along the high-treed grove,
Where sighing winds once whisper'd down
Our whisper'd words; and there's the crown
Of Duncliffe Hill, where widening shades
Of timber fall on sloping glades:
So you enjoy the green and blue
Without, and I will look on you.

And there we pull'd, within the copse,
With nutting-crooks the hazel tops,
That now arise, unleaved and black,
Too thin to keep the wind-blast back;
And there's the church, and spreading lime,
Where we did meet at evening time,
In clusters, on the beaten green,
In glee, to see and to be seen:
All old sights welcomer than new,
And look'd on as I look'd on you.