My True Love Made A Home For Me Poem by Emily Pfeiffer

My true love made a home for me
Or ever we were wed;
Of chairs we had at first but three,
A table, and a bed;
A tea-set, and a silver spoon,—
The lion shows it true,—
And Bobbie says he knows he soon
Is bound to make it two.
A kettle and an iron pot,
And many a kitchen thing,
We bought together in a lot,
Before he chose the ring.
My Bobbie made and paid for all
With over-hours of work,
So in each piece, however small,
Some virtue seems to lurk.
Beneath the blankets, new and warm,
At night we take our rest,
As near to joy and far from harm
As birds within the nest.

My lord has brought his lady home,
The great house is a sight;
Strange men from over seas have come,
And work there day and night;
It's all so grand, and such a size!
You're dazed and lose your way,
And wicked echoes seem to rise
And mock what you would say.
I wonder if, when unawares,
My lord and lady sit
Together on their satin chairs,
And all those candles lit—
I wonder do they chair and chair
Draw close enough to touch,
And whisper lest the listening air
Should come to know too much.
It must be hard in that big place,
And crowds of servants by,
For folks though living face to face
To seem to come a-nigh.
The great house is a world too fine,
My dear, I think a nest
Like this poor place of yours and mine
For lovers is the best.