THE FIRE-HANGBIRD'S NEST
Just as of old that prudent, crafty bird of compound name
(And in parenthesis I'll say her nest is still the same);
Just as of old the passion, too, that fires the youthful breast
To climb unto and comprehend the old fire-hangbird's nest!
I like to see my old-time friend swing in that ancient tree,
And, if the elm's as tall and sturdy as it used to be,
I'm sure that many a year that nest shall in the breezes blow,
For boys aren't what they used to be a forty years ago!
The elm looks shorter than it did when Brother Rufe and I
Beheld with envious hearts that trophy flaunted from on high;
He writes that in the city where he's living 'way out West
His little boys have never seen an old fire-hangbird's nest!
Poor little chaps! how lonesomelike their city life must be—
I wish they 'd come and live awhile in this old house with me!
They'd have the honest friends and healthful sports I used to know
When Brother Rufe and I were boys a forty years ago.
So, when they grew from romping lads to busy, useful men,
They could recall with proper pride their country life again;
And of those recollections of their youth I'm sure the best
Would be of how they sought in vain the old fire-hangbird's nest!
[35]
