Classic Poem

A windy evening, deep in June,
Was losing sunlight for the moon,
And towards my house the grass blades leant,
And towards my house the treeboughs bent;
And houseward all the pond waves sped,
And then the smoke to eastward spread
As I came home, and at my side
Brought in my newly-wedded bride,
Where first, by my pale light, was seen
In her new place the place's queen.

There I, the while the sun's last light
Beshaded things of every hight,
Was proud to see my grass for hay,
And proud to see my own trees sway,
And proud to see my own waves run,
And smoke upcurl from my own tun;
But proud was I with higher pride
To see, within her house, my bride,
And give her over for her own
What heretofore I held alone.

A mare had I, of easy pace,
And footsure, with a whitestarr'd face,
That trode my grass with roaming feet
And sought my tree from burning heat,
And drank beside the pool's wide bed,
And laid within my stall her head;
And she would come, at call, to bear
Her mistress both with speed and care,
To town, or on her homeward track
To pitch on toetip from her back.

When short-day'd winter came around,
And evening soon bedimm'd the ground,
And all the grass was white with frost,
And leaves of trees were dead and lost,
And shining ice bespread the pool,
And curling smoke upfloated cool,
My blazing fire flung back the gloom
Of night fast gath'ring o'er my room,
And show'd in kindly smiles a sight
Well worth the costliest of light.