Classic Poem

Will you come to my heart of hearts? 'Tis a path o'ergrown with rue,
Where rarely a footprint parts the mosses or dims the dew;
Yet there, in the thorn-tree cloven, her nest hath a song-bird woven,
And deep in my heart of hearts the love-light burns for you.

Would you wend from my heart of hearts? Shall I hold my guest my thrall?
Peace to the rose that starts wherever your footsteps fall!
But leaping in fitful flashes, the hearth-fire pants to ashes;
Shadow on bench and ingle, shadow on floor and wall.

All dark in my heart of hearts? Nay, the skies that once were far,
The skies whence the lightning darts, the skies where the rainbows are,
Look in through the broken thatches. Only the wind at the latches,
But glad is my heart of hearts with the glory of sun and star.