THE OLD CHIMNEY CORNER

THE OLD CHIMNEY CORNER

After The German Of Heinrich Heine

Outside now the white flakes fly

Through the night, loud is the storm;

In the small room here it's dry;

Lonely, homely-calm, and warm.

I sit, musing in my armchair,

By the crackling fire place;

And the boiling kettle hums there

Long-lost melodies' last trace.

And a small cat sits just by,

Warming small paws in the glow;

Flame forms flicker, weave and fly;

Strange the moods within me grow.

As in twilight, rises many,

Many a long-forgotten era;

As in drifting, long and motley

Masquerades and faded splendour.

With knowing looks fair women beckon

With a sweet, mysterious air;

Harlequins, with gay abandon,

Jump and laugh between them there.

In the distance gods of marble

Give a greeting, near them grow

Dreamlike flowers of tale and fable,

Leaves astir in moonlight glow.

Past me swim uncertain sights,

Magic castles of past ages;

And behind come shining knights,

Riding with attendant pages.

And this all goes passing over,

Hurried shadow-hastily-

Oh! the kettle's boiling over,

And the wet cat howls at me.