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Poem by Christopher Morley A Charm For Our New Fireplace, To Stop Its Smoking O wood, burn bright; O flame, be quick; O smoke, draw cleanly up the flue— My lady chose your every brick And sets her dearest hopes on you! Logs cannot burn, nor tea be sweet, Nor white bread turn to crispy toast, Until the charm be made complete By love, to lay the sooty ghost. And then, dear books, dear waiting chairs, Dear china and mahogany, Draw close, for on the happy stairs My brown-eyed girl comes down for tea! Christopher Morley Christopher Morley's other poems:
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