Fire Fancies


The fire grows low, the embers fall apart,
The room grows dark and shadows steal around;
I gaze and gaze into the fire’s red heart
And there what treasures oft are lurking found.
Deep in a cavern’s mouth there sits a witch
Crooning a spell and squatting ‘fore a pot,
For more ingredients out her arm doth reach —
All this I see among the coals red-hot!
A flash, and in a forest’s deep green glade
A band of sylvan nymphs doth quick appear;
Then knightly courts, now flashing cutting blade,
Now dreadful death and woeful murder drear.
A charred log fall and sparks giddily rise;
Fled is the vision from before my eyes!