Partingtonian patchwork Blifkins the martyr : the domestic trials of a model husband. The modern syntax : Dr. Spooner's experiences in search of the delectable. Partington papers : strippings of the warm milk of human kindness. New and old dips from an unambitious inkstand. Humorous, eccentric, rhythmical |
 |
|
|
|
| 1. |
| 2. |
|
| 1. |
| 2. |
| 3. |
HOME IN VACATION. |
 | Partingtonian patchwork |  |
278
HOME IN VACATION.
How still the house is! All the noise and riot,
That late our ears with fearful din distracted,
Are now submerged in overwhelming quiet,
And order reigns where chaos was enacted.
That late our ears with fearful din distracted,
Are now submerged in overwhelming quiet,
And order reigns where chaos was enacted.
Ah, blessed order! we thy peace enjoying,
Forget the recent source of our vexation,
And while the tranquil time we are employing,
We bless the happy season of vacation.
Forget the recent source of our vexation,
And while the tranquil time we are employing,
We bless the happy season of vacation.
No voices by the chamber stairs are calling;
No lawless hands on the piano drumming;
No teasing Ike his sisterhood is hauling;
No screams for “Father!” to his ear are coming;
No lawless hands on the piano drumming;
No teasing Ike his sisterhood is hauling;
No screams for “Father!” to his ear are coming;
No boisterous lungs in disputatious fretting;
No tart remark, no sharp recrimination;
No little rebel duty's claim forgetting;
No broken rules for stern examination.
No tart remark, no sharp recrimination;
No little rebel duty's claim forgetting;
No broken rules for stern examination.
The books are on the shelves in nice condition,
The music piled up in the proper places,
The table-cloths are in exact position,
And just the angle are the shells and vases.
The music piled up in the proper places,
The table-cloths are in exact position,
And just the angle are the shells and vases.
It is so quite! Not an echo hearing
In all the rooms, from basement to the attic.
We smile to realize the comfort cheering
Of stillness so profound—bliss so ecstatic.
In all the rooms, from basement to the attic.
We smile to realize the comfort cheering
Of stillness so profound—bliss so ecstatic.
279
But yet, amid the turbulence and clatter,
There mingled strains that filled the heart with pleasure,
Kernels of love mixed with the idle chatter,
Bright grains among the dross we loved to treasure.
There mingled strains that filled the heart with pleasure,
Kernels of love mixed with the idle chatter,
Bright grains among the dross we loved to treasure.
Glad glances met our own each day returning,
And faces with the soul's young sunlight glowing,
And hearts with warm, impulsive fervor burning,
Spoke out from lips with youth's own language flowing.
And faces with the soul's young sunlight glowing,
And hearts with warm, impulsive fervor burning,
Spoke out from lips with youth's own language flowing.
Sweet melodies upon the air of even
Woke the heart's tenderness to fondest dreaming,
And lost in notes that seemed like those of heaven,
Forgot were cares with which the earth is teeming.
Woke the heart's tenderness to fondest dreaming,
And lost in notes that seemed like those of heaven,
Forgot were cares with which the earth is teeming.
Although we prize the luxury of order,
And think ourselves enriched the boon possessing,
The ripless calm that overhangs our border,
Purchased with loss of these is not a blessing.
And think ourselves enriched the boon possessing,
The ripless calm that overhangs our border,
Purchased with loss of these is not a blessing.
We sigh regretfully the past recalling,
And crave disorder with the joys attending,
For quiet wears to us a garb appalling,
And peace thus gained is not worth the defending.
And crave disorder with the joys attending,
For quiet wears to us a garb appalling,
And peace thus gained is not worth the defending.
Then welcome once again the wild commotion,
The song, the shout, the dance, the roguish actions,
Breaking to life the dull domestic ocean,
By order's oft allowable infractions.
The song, the shout, the dance, the roguish actions,
Breaking to life the dull domestic ocean,
By order's oft allowable infractions.
| Partingtonian patchwork | |