Poem by Harold Hart Crane

Fear

The host, he says that all is well
And the fire-wood glow is bright;
The food has a warm and tempting smell,-
But on the window licks the night.

Pile on the logs... Give me your hands,
Friends! No,- it is not fright...
But hold me... somewhere I heard demands...
And on the window licks the night.

1. Legend
2. Interior
3. Carrier Letter
4. To Emily Dickinson
5. Voyages 4

Samuel Butler Fear ("There needs no other charm, nor conjurer")

Print

1803 Views

Last Poems

To Russian version