Stone Cottages

You built your stone cottages

Without any windows,

No light for your memories

No doors for your soul;

You’ve long kept your pillages

Deep-dug in foundations

Your meadows and villages

Too far from your home.

 

The shadows of verities

Loom large on verandahs

To strut at the terraces,

Assault your grim walls;

But all of your sureties

Are locked in your cottages

And all your serenity

In dark, airless halls.

 

Your lines cross your messages

In treks round old workings,

Your mind lines the precipice

That quickens your pride,

Your darkness is born of

Young dreams and old wreckages,

Short schemes and long yearnings

You’ve always denied.

 

David Lewis Paget