<div style="background:#fff;border:#bbb dashed 1px;padding:5px"><a href="http://en.citatepedia.ro/comments.php?id=507056" style="color:#000;text-decoration:none"><div style="margin:10px 0"><strong>Welcome Home</strong></div><div style="margin:10px 0">The fire burns bright<br>And the hearth is clean swept,<br>As she likes it kept,<br>And the lamp is alight.<br>She is coming to-night.</div><div style="margin:10px 0">The wind's east of late.<br>When she comes, she'll be cold,<br>So the big chair is rolled<br>Close up to the grate,<br>And I listen and wait.</div><div style="margin:10px 0">The shutters are fast,<br>And the red curtains hide<br>Every hint of outside.<br>But hark, how the blast<br>Whistled then as it passed!</div><div style="margin:10px 0">Or was it the train?<br>How long shall I stand,<br>With my watch in my hand,<br>And listen in vain<br>For the wheels in the lane?</div><div style="margin:10px 0">Hark! A rumble I hear<br>(Will the wind not be still?),<br>And it comes down the hill,<br>And it grows on the ear,<br>And now it is near.</div><div style="margin:10px 0">Quick, a fresh log to burn!<br>Run and open the door,<br>Hold a lamp out before<br>To light up the turn,<br>And bring in the urn.</div><div style="margin:10px 0">You are come, then, at last!<br>O my dear, is it you?<br>I can scarce think it true<br>I am holding you fast,<br>And sorrow is past.</div><div style="margin:10px 0"><br /></a><br />poem by <a href="http://en.citatepedia.ro/by.php?a=Robert+Fuller+Murray">Robert Fuller Murray</a><div class=q> <img src="https://www.citatepedia.ro/g/32share.png" style="float:left" alt="Share"> <script type="text/javascript" src="//s7.addthis.com/js/300/addthis_widget.js#pubid=citatepedia" async="async"></script><div style="display:inline-block" class="addthis_sharing_toolbox" data-url="http://en.citatepedia.ro/comments.php?id=507056" data-title="Welcome Home de Robert Fuller Murray" data-description="The fire burns bright And the hearth is clean swept, As she likes it kept, And the lamp is alight. She is coming to-night. The wind's east of late. When she comes, she'll be cold, So the big chair is rolled Close up to the grate, And I listen and..."></div> </div> </div>

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