Skip to content
1871–1926

THE BUILDER

Francis Sherman

Come and let me make thee glad In this house that I have made! No where ( I am unafraid! ) Canst thou find its like on Earth:

Come, and learn the perfect worth Of the labor I have had. I have fashioned it for thee, Every room and pictured wall;

Every marble pillar tall, Every door and window-place; All were done that thy fair face Might look kindlier on me.

Here, moreover, thou shalt find Strange, delightful, far-brought things: Dulcimers, whose tightened strings, Once, dead women loved to touch;

( Deeming they could mimic much Of the music of the wind! ) Heavy candlesticks of brass; Chess-men carved of ivory;

Mass-books written perfectly By some patient monk of old; Flagons wrought of thick, red gold, Set with gems and colored glass;

Burnished armor, once some knight ( Dead, I deem, long wars ago! ) Its great strength was glad to know When his Lady needed him:

( Now that both his eyes are dim Both his sword and shield are bright! ) Come, and share these things with me, Men have died to leave to us!

We shall find life glorious In this splendid house of love; Come, and claim thy part thereof,— I have fashioned it for thee!

Cookies on Poetry Cove

We use cookies to remember your language preference and — only with your consent — to learn how Poetry Cove is used. You can change your mind any time.
THE BUILDER · Francis Sherman · Poetry Cove