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This poem is often wrongly thought to be by Robert W Service. It is published here to the memory of Hugh Antoine D'Arcy, its rightful father.
An Evening with the Bard of the Yukon, July 18 th 2003 at 20.30pm in the Town-Hall of Lancieux, Brittany.
All Entries 1997 - 2002
All Entries 2002
Odds and Ends, Other Items Of Interest About Robert

Houses

Published by Susan on 08/01/2003 (2407 reads)
The ivied house was shy and strange...

The ivied house was shy and strange
Because I was not used to it;
It seemed as if it hated change
Of ownership, yet bit by bit
           It moulded to my fit.

And then with kindly gravity
And tenderness it tucked me in,
Just like a mother, shielding me
From cold and damp and dust and din,
           Seeking my heart to win.

And now the ivied house and I
Are gently welded into one;
Yet when in cyprus shade I lie,
With smiling it will greet the sun,
           Although my race be run.

For flesh will rot but stone will stay,
And though its walls I hold in fee,
They will be sunnyful and gay
Long after I have ceased to be,
           Forgetting me.

Houses give love to those who love
And care for them and call them Home;
A rosy roof is blest above
The glory of a golden dome:
Let humble hearth-fire close our days
           In peace and praise!


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