TO AN ANCIENT ROCKING CHAIR.
Whom have thy curving arms embraced
Thou ancient, stately chair?
Since first thy form the parlor graced
And claim'd the housewife's care.
For full a century, I ween,
Its mighty round has made,
Since first thy columns black and sheen
Their maker's skill display'd.
The slippery Sofa's glossy dress
Allures the weary wight,
But soon his sliding limbs confess
Their most uneasy plight,—
Though still it decks the modern hall
The eye of taste to please:
While thou, a favourite art of all
Who love the balm of ease.
On thee, the invalid reclined,
His form by sickness chain'd,
Though haply still, his soaring mind
Its prison house disdain'd,—
And wandering wide o'er fairy land
Collected rainbow rays,
Or waked with memory's magic wand
Fair forms of other days.
Here has some ancient maiden bright
Repell'd encroaching Time,
Ensconced in stiff-laced stays upright
With high-heel'd shoe sublime.
