In the Morning

by Willis Boyd Allen

Flickers the ruddy firelight on the wall;

Now here, now there, the shadows restlessly

Dance in and out among the gleaming bars

That prison many a glimpse of sea and sky

Upon the pictured canvas. Brightly falls

The cheerful light upon familiar forms

Of volumes clothed in sober garb and gay,

Whose very names, in golden characters,

Invite to solace sweet, and peace of mind.