A warm house and a ruddy fire,
To what more can man aspire?
Eyes that shine with love aglow,
...
There in the flame of the open grate,
All that is good in the past I see:
Red-lipped youth on the swinging gate,
...
I'm sorry for a fellow if he cannot look and see
In a grate fire's friendly flaming all the joys which used to be.
If in quiet contemplation of a cheerful ruddy blaze
...