With a true book to read. My study fire
Made music to my ear; the placid brow
Of my Madonna, and the shadowy tints
Of an old Flemish picture that I keep,
Might pass for company; and for relief
To weary eyes, a sweet geranium stood
In the half shuttered window, breathing out
Its odors with the pleasant smell of books;
And a soft landscape, given me by one
Who has a noble nature, hung in light,