Excerpt from The Voice of April-Land, and Other Poems Hen I come up the hill at night And see my home far, high, aloof, All Heaven's stars seem glittering Upon its storm-worn roof. They outline all the gables steep Above the square, unlighted panes, And all along the eaves they hang In bright and sparkling chains. Dear house, thine ugliness by day Is turned to beauty overnight. About the Publisher Forgotten Books publishes hundreds of thousands of rare and classic books. Find more at www.forgottenbooks.com This book is a reproduction of an important historical work. Forgotten Books uses state-of-the-art technology to digitally reconstruct the work, preserving the original format whilst repairing imperfections present in the aged copy. In rare cases, an imperfection in the original, such as a blemish or missing page, may be replicated in our edition. We do, however, repair the vast majority of imperfections successfully; any imperfections that remain are intentionally left to preserve the state of such historical works.