Here Is The Place Where Loveliness Keeps House

Here is the place where Loveliness keeps house,

Between the river and the wooded hills,

Within a valley where Springtime spills

Her firstling wild-flowers under blossoming boughs:

Where Summer sits braiding her warm, white brows

With bramble-roses; and where Autumn fills

Her lap with asters; and old Winter fills

With crimson haw and hip his snowy blouse.

Here you may meet with Beauty. Here she sits

Gazing upon the moon, or all the day

Turning a wood-thrush flute, remote, unseen;

Or when the storm is out, 'tis she who flits

From rock to rock, a form of flying spray,

Shouting, beneath the leaves' tumultuous green.

"Here Is The Place Where Loveliness Keeps House"

(1912)

Madison Cawein

(1865-1914)

American poet from Kentucky