Ballads and Lyrics

by Bliss Carman


 

THE CRIMSON HOUSE


 

LOVE built a crimson house,
    I know it well,
That he might have a home
    Wherein to dwell.

Poor Love that roved so far

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    And fared so ill,
Between the morning star
    And the Hollow Hill,

Before he found the vale
    Where he could bide,

10
With memory and oblivion
    Side by side.

He took the silver dew
    And the dun red clay,
And behold when he was through

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    How fair were they!

The braces of the sky
    Were in its girth,
That it should feel no jar
    Of the swinging earth;

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That sun and wind might bleach
    But not destroy
The house that he had builded
    For this joy.

“Here will I stay,” he said,

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    “And roam no more,
And dust when I am dead
    Shall keep the door.”

There trooping dreams by night
    Go by, go by.

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The walls are rosy white
    In the sun’s eye.

The windows are more clear
    Than sky or sea;
He made them after God’s

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    Transparency.

It is a dearer place
    Than kirk or inn;
Such joy on joy as there
    Has never been.

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There may my longed-for rest
    And welcome be,
When Love himself unbars
    The door for me!