 | The Dramatic and Poetical Works of Joanna Baillie |  |
LI.
Fondly that homely house she eyed,The door, the windows, every thing
Which to her back-cast thoughts could bring
The scenes of other days.—Then she applied
To knocker bright her thrilling hand,
And begg'd, as strangers in the land,
Admittance from the household dame,
And thus preferr'd her gentle claim:
“This house was once my happy home,
“Its rooms, its stair, I fain would see;
“Its meanest nook is dear to me,
“Let me and mine within its threshold come.”
But no; this might not be!
Their feet might soil her polish'd floor,
The dame held fast the hostile door,
A Belgian housewife she.
“Fear not such harm! we'll doff our shoes:
“Do not our earnest suit refuse!
“We'll give thee thanks, we'll give thee gold;
“Do not kind courtesy withhold!”
But still it might not be;
The dull unpliant dame refused her gentle plea.
| The Dramatic and Poetical Works of Joanna Baillie | |