  decorative THE shadow of your threshold is so full Of meaning, that the stranger knows what home Is yours, if peace dwell here, or strife, or restless Unsatisfied ambition. As the tree's Deep shadow meaneth rest and comfort, or Is poison, sleep eternal, such the house That is a home's sweet shadow or a dark Abode of sin, of lurking lie and danger. The shadow of your life, that is so small In bright midday and summer's burning sun, And shows the beauty of the tree in outline, Its graceful forms, its harmony and power; And never did its beauty strike before, As now, when lost in thought, you contemplate The shadow on the lawn. The golden rays That flood it, make it higher, nobler, and Its shadow ever greater, till the night Calls forth the moon, to make it deep and weird As if unspoken pain had darkened it, As if the silvery paleness of the moon Sharpened its features into hardness almost. Behold the shadow of thy life! Look well if It be a threshold that reveals the strong Unbending will, the height of all your aims, Your passions' darkness, and the harmony Of all the branches that were put into Is done, and winter's moon will draw its line In naked truth, without the flattering leaves Upon your windingsheet's unruffled snow. |
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