This Is My Dream

This is my dream, to have you on a day
Of beating rain and sullen clouds of gloom
Here with me, in the old, familiar room,
Watching the logs beneath the flames’ swift play
Burst into strange conceits of bud and bloom.

The things we know about us here and there,
The books we love, half read, on floor and knee,
The stein the Dutchman brought from oversea
Standing invitingly beside your chair,
The while we quote and talk and – disagree;

Rebuild the castles that we reared in Spain,
Reread the poet that our childhood knew,
With eyes that meet when some quaint thought rings true.
Oh, friend, for some such day of cheer and rain,
Books, and the dear companionship of you!