THE OLD HOUSE.

Te Aroha News, Volume III, Issue 142, 20 February 1886, Page 6

THE OLD HOUSE.

It used to bo so quiet It looked so pivtfcy and green : T w- a H£ hymm 2 d hi « h in its cl oar blue sky, •With thrusheb' notes between. And from its doors and windowo, .Lire s morning songs wore heard. As pure as bluejt heaven, As blithe as any bird. Can those be the solf-samo windows. And that the very door? And this full street our green lane, whero feet Once walked that will walk no more ? Ann that old grape vine, struggling To put forth to wn -bred J e&vr I Did I once, once gather in clusters iJeneath our happy Daves ? O, poor old house of my girlhood ! O, strange ghost haunted way ! w, OO t B & ee^ b / Btreet the tall mansions meet, But the hetfgerowa, white wiih May, The scents of. the August evenings, IhQ nightingale's soft June song, Gono. gone ! All are dead and departed, iiike tt c days when we wore young. Yet by the old house I linger, And my heart grows faint and weak : Ihe carriages roar llko a sea without shore, And the railway engines shrink ; A^-L n \ tir ? rf ' tired ' tired of th o noises, With the life locgeilenep below ; And I almost wish I had followed The way all the rest did go. And I would I had tears, but they come not, The smooth emiles come instead. Oh, the careless words that cut like swords ! Oh, the stones we get for bread ! So I take up the old, old burden— Long carrying makes it sweet ; And silently go on my journey >- To the house were all paths meet.

Dinah Maria Ckaik.