 | The poetical works of William H. C. Hosmer |  |
201
THE HEARTH-CRICKET.
I love thy chirping notes,
Black watchman of the night!
They summon from the cloudy past
Bright hours of lost delight.
The wildwood haunts of home
In thought I tread once more—
Rock, thicket, glade, and torrent wear
The loveliness of yore.
Black watchman of the night!
They summon from the cloudy past
Bright hours of lost delight.
The wildwood haunts of home
In thought I tread once more—
Rock, thicket, glade, and torrent wear
The loveliness of yore.
Around the lighted hearth
That gave thee lodging warm
While fell the cold, November rain
Or howled the wintry storm,
In calm contentment meet
The forms of vanished days,
And voices of familiar tone
Breathe old, remembered lays.
That gave thee lodging warm
While fell the cold, November rain
Or howled the wintry storm,
In calm contentment meet
The forms of vanished days,
And voices of familiar tone
Breathe old, remembered lays.
When eve again returns,
Steal forth on nimble feet
From cranny in the chimney-wall,
Thy tempest-proof retreat;
For thy shrill, household song
Is worker of a spell
Whereby that thief, Forgetfulness,
Unlocks his treasure-cell
Steal forth on nimble feet
From cranny in the chimney-wall,
Thy tempest-proof retreat;
For thy shrill, household song
Is worker of a spell
Whereby that thief, Forgetfulness,
Unlocks his treasure-cell
Re-visiting in soul
My father's rose-wreathed cot,
The briers of this “work-day world”
Awhile torment me not—
The loved and long-lost dead
Seem palpable to sight,
Awakened by thy chirping note,
Black watchman of the night!
My father's rose-wreathed cot,
The briers of this “work-day world”
Awhile torment me not—
The loved and long-lost dead
Seem palpable to sight,
Awakened by thy chirping note,
Black watchman of the night!
| The poetical works of William H. C. Hosmer | |