Old Fires

The fire burns low     Where it has burned ages ago,     Sinks and sighs     As it has done to a hundred eyes     Staring, staring     At the last cold smokeless glow.     Here men sat     Lonely and watched the golden grate     Turn at length black;     Heard the cooling iron crack:     Shadows, shadows,     Watching the shadows come and go.     And still the hiss     I hear, the soft fire's sob and kiss,     And still it burns     And the bright gold to crimson turns,     Sinking, sinking,     And the fire shadows larger grow.     O dark-cheeked fire,     Wasting like spent heart's desire,     You that were gold,     And now crimson will soon be cold--     Cold, cold,     Like moon-shadows on new snow.     Shadows all,     They that watched your shadows fall.     But now they come     Rising around me, grave and dumb....     Shadows, shadows,     Come as the fire-shadows go.     And stay, stay,     Though all the fire sink cold as clay,     Whispering still,     Ancestral wise Familiars--till,     Staring, staring,     Dawn's wild fires through the casement glow.