118
THE HOUSE IN THE MEADOW.
Within, in the wide old kitchen,
The old folk sit in the sun
That creeps through the sheltering woodbine
Till the day is almost done.
The old folk sit in the sun
That creeps through the sheltering woodbine
Till the day is almost done.
The children grew up and left them,—
They sit in the sun alone,
And the old wife's ears are failing
As she harks to the well-known tone
They sit in the sun alone,
And the old wife's ears are failing
As she harks to the well-known tone
That won her heart in her girlhood,
That has soothed her in many a care,
And praises her now for the brightness
Her old face used to wear.
That has soothed her in many a care,
And praises her now for the brightness
Her old face used to wear.
She thinks again of her bridal,
How, dressed in her robe of white,
She stood by her gay young lover
In the morning's rosy light:
How, dressed in her robe of white,
She stood by her gay young lover
In the morning's rosy light:
