Cicely Fox Smith

(1 February 1882 – 8 April 1954 / Lymm, Cheshire)

Traveller's Rest - Poem by Cicely Fox Smith

When you are tired of the long road and the open sky,
I wish it may be my door that you're passing by:
I wish it may be my hearth where you will sit down
And tell your tales of the land and sea and the strange far town.

Oh, come you in from eastward or come you in from the west,
Here's good cheer to greet you and welcome of the best:
Oh come you with your pockets full or come you home poor,
Here's a place by the fireside and an open door.

You'll tell me where you were since, and the things you've seen
Up and down the wide world where so long you've been, -
All the time that I've been here and you far away, -
And then awhile be silent, as good friends may.

And then awhile listen to the wind and rain,
Moaning in the chimney-breast, beating at the pane, -
Dark and cold outside there, and the stormy skies,
And you sitting down here with the firelight in your eyes.

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Poem Submitted: Tuesday, August 31, 2010

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