Until at last they rest on me.
Heap high the sturdy fire-dogs’ backs
With boughs of hemlock, birch, and pine.
The crisp bark curls, and smokes, and cracks;
It comes at last, the spark divine,
And bursting forth in broad, free laughter,
The glorious blaze comes hurrying after,
Springs up the chimney with a roar,
Chasing the shadows away once more,
Shining far out upon the floor,