 | Songs of two centuries |  |
57
UP IN THE LOFT.
Up in the loft, 'mid scented clover,
Five of us perched and talked it over;
Talked of the years that lagged and waited,
Full of the gold of Fancy freighted;
Full of the joys that Hope was living—
Joys that the world is slow in giving;
Full of the honors Youth can spread
Over its own fair head.
Tom was a colonel brave and comely,
There in his worsted garments homely;
Jack was a doctor all were seeking,
Jem was a lawyer, glib of speaking;
Fred as a merchant bought and sold
Half of the world for leaves of gold;
And I was sailing the wide seas over,
There in my ship of scented clover.
Five of us perched and talked it over;
Talked of the years that lagged and waited,
Full of the gold of Fancy freighted;
Full of the joys that Hope was living—
Joys that the world is slow in giving;
Full of the honors Youth can spread
Over its own fair head.
Tom was a colonel brave and comely,
There in his worsted garments homely;
Jack was a doctor all were seeking,
Jem was a lawyer, glib of speaking;
Fred as a merchant bought and sold
Half of the world for leaves of gold;
And I was sailing the wide seas over,
There in my ship of scented clover.
Up in the tomb of the blossoms sitting,
Ghosts of the past were round us flitting;
Forms that magical deeds had done,
Came to us one by one;
All of the tales we had heard and read,
Now were sung or said.
Tom of the knights with helmets glancing,
Under their snow-white plumage dancing;
Jem of the genii weird of mission—
Jack of the sages' cold ambition:
Fred of the lamp which, dim and old
Lighted Aladdin to fame and gold;
And I was at heart a Sindbad rover,
Gathering gems in a vale of clover.
Ghosts of the past were round us flitting;
Forms that magical deeds had done,
Came to us one by one;
All of the tales we had heard and read,
Now were sung or said.
Tom of the knights with helmets glancing,
Under their snow-white plumage dancing;
Jem of the genii weird of mission—
Jack of the sages' cold ambition:
Fred of the lamp which, dim and old
Lighted Aladdin to fame and gold;
58
Gathering gems in a vale of clover.
Up in the couch of the grasses lying,
There as the winds outside were sighing,
There in that field of fragrant clover,
Under the barn-roof's trusted cover,
All of us whispered some sweetheart-name—
Haply no two the same;
All of us murmured secrets there,
Of tiny maidens fair:
In that chapel of scented clover,
Each of us vowed himself a lover.
How did the castles we were building
Fall with the sunrise' fragile gilding!
How were the hopes Desire was giving
Crushed in the wear and tear of living!
How, in the noontide's steady glare,
Gone are our maidens fair!
Tom's, in a few short years, sedately
Married a judge, severe and stately:
Jack had the “mitten” prematurely,
Jem has a wife he loves unsurely;
Fred has one who, dainty elf,
Married his money, and not himself;
And she whose image thoughtfully gay
Lit brightest the loft on that winter day,
Sleeps, when the summer winds fly over,
Solemnly 'neath the blossomed clover.
There as the winds outside were sighing,
There in that field of fragrant clover,
Under the barn-roof's trusted cover,
All of us whispered some sweetheart-name—
Haply no two the same;
All of us murmured secrets there,
Of tiny maidens fair:
In that chapel of scented clover,
Each of us vowed himself a lover.
How did the castles we were building
Fall with the sunrise' fragile gilding!
How were the hopes Desire was giving
Crushed in the wear and tear of living!
How, in the noontide's steady glare,
Gone are our maidens fair!
Tom's, in a few short years, sedately
Married a judge, severe and stately:
Jack had the “mitten” prematurely,
Jem has a wife he loves unsurely;
Fred has one who, dainty elf,
Married his money, and not himself;
And she whose image thoughtfully gay
Lit brightest the loft on that winter day,
Sleeps, when the summer winds fly over,
Solemnly 'neath the blossomed clover.
| Songs of two centuries | |