Chips, fragments and vestiges by Gail Hamilton collected and arranged by H. Augusta Dodge |
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A REQUIEM FOR THE DEPARTED |
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 | Chips, fragments and vestiges by Gail Hamilton |  |
51
A REQUIEM FOR THE DEPARTED
Tear it down, tear it down, with a mighty stroke,
Let the Dutch house disappear;
It has stood upright with its beams of oak,
And its firm built walls, now dim with smoke,
For many a bygone year.
Of timber strong was the old house made,
On a rock foundation its base was laid;
But a cycle's storms have beat o'er its head,
And now its glory and pride have fled.
Let the Dutch house disappear;
It has stood upright with its beams of oak,
And its firm built walls, now dim with smoke,
For many a bygone year.
Of timber strong was the old house made,
On a rock foundation its base was laid;
But a cycle's storms have beat o'er its head,
And now its glory and pride have fled.
It stands, oh, it stands on a beautiful site,
A river flows gently by,
With its waves of crystal and silver bright,
Crested with diamonds and pearls of light,
And pure as the cloudless sky.
Grassy and green is the flowery shore,
Broad are the tree-tops that wave evermore,
Dense is the cool shade and sweet is the song
Of the gay plumaged birds the green branches among.
A river flows gently by,
With its waves of crystal and silver bright,
Crested with diamonds and pearls of light,
And pure as the cloudless sky.
Grassy and green is the flowery shore,
Broad are the tree-tops that wave evermore,
Dense is the cool shade and sweet is the song
Of the gay plumaged birds the green branches among.
It may be, it may be that long years ago,
Before the old house was there,
When gentle as now was the river's flow,
The music of nature as soothing and low,
And the banks as green and fair—
Perhaps at the close of the summer's day,
The voices of children were heard in play,
While the parents, reposing from labor and care,
Sought the coolness and quietude always there.
Before the old house was there,
When gentle as now was the river's flow,
The music of nature as soothing and low,
And the banks as green and fair—
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The voices of children were heard in play,
While the parents, reposing from labor and care,
Sought the coolness and quietude always there.
But years upon years have passed away,
And father and son have gone—
And they who lived in that distant day,
Have, one by one, trod the same dark way,
And now is left not one.
And the house, the house where long they dwelt,
The finger of time it has sadly felt;
It is black with age; it is viewed with gloom,
And a dwelling for ghosts seems each lonely room.
And father and son have gone—
And they who lived in that distant day,
Have, one by one, trod the same dark way,
And now is left not one.
And the house, the house where long they dwelt,
The finger of time it has sadly felt;
It is black with age; it is viewed with gloom,
And a dwelling for ghosts seems each lonely room.
Tear it down, tear it down with a mighty stroke,
Let the Dutch house disappear;
It has stood upright with its beams of oak,
And its firm built walls, now dim with smoke,
For many a bygone year.
But the time has come for it to die,
Its dissolution draweth nigh.
Farewell, farewell, to the house of yore,
We shall see the Dutch house nevermore.
Let the Dutch house disappear;
It has stood upright with its beams of oak,
And its firm built walls, now dim with smoke,
For many a bygone year.
But the time has come for it to die,
Its dissolution draweth nigh.
Farewell, farewell, to the house of yore,
We shall see the Dutch house nevermore.
| Chips, fragments and vestiges by Gail Hamilton | |