Classic Poem

Sweet Florentine that sitteth by the hearth
When hums my spinning, and the shadows leap
As leaps the fire and with its stealthy creep,
The winter twilight hushes all the earth:

A husband's love besunning my life's girth,
Warms me like grain that ripens for the reap;
And children, my life's jewels, stand and peep
Behind my chair, and leave my heart no dearth.

But who would scorn to add another hour
To glorious summer's ampleness, or scorn
Bright gems of thought, though sparkling be her dower?

So let thy fondness warm me and adorn,
Sweet Florentine, though Love already shower
Its ripening rays like sunshine on the corn.