 | Poems and verses by Mary Mapes Dodge |  |
168
THE CONCERT.
Such a concert, dear, as I've had to-night!
Full of sweet sound and deep delight;
And yet “the house” was poor;
Poor, if you count by crowded seats;
But judging only by glad heart-beats,
'T was a splendid house, I'm sure.
Full of sweet sound and deep delight;
And yet “the house” was poor;
Poor, if you count by crowded seats;
But judging only by glad heart-beats,
'T was a splendid house, I'm sure.
First, Baby sang as well as she could
Some sweet little notes that I understood;
And wee Kate's chirp of a laugh broke out
As Willy ran in with a merry shout;
The pussy purred on the rug in state,
And the good clock ticked: “It 's late! it 's late!”
While faint in the shadows the cricket sang,
And the kettle hummed with a plaintive twang.
Some sweet little notes that I understood;
And wee Kate's chirp of a laugh broke out
As Willy ran in with a merry shout;
The pussy purred on the rug in state,
And the good clock ticked: “It 's late! it 's late!”
While faint in the shadows the cricket sang,
And the kettle hummed with a plaintive twang.
That was Part First, you must know, my dear,
When only we five were there to hear;
The fagots crackled applause;
The baby's soft little pat-a-cake
Made reckless encores for the music's sake,
And “lullaby” brought us the pause.
When only we five were there to hear;
The fagots crackled applause;
169
Made reckless encores for the music's sake,
And “lullaby” brought us the pause.
Well, the Second Part? Ah that was fine—
Fine to the heart's core, lover mine!
For over the kettle's winsome plaint,
And the baby's breathing, sweet and faint,
And over the prattle of Will and Kate,
And the clock's impatient “Late! it 's late!”
I heard the blessedest sound of all—
A click of the latch, a step in the hall!
And “Home, sweet home” pulsed all the air
As you came calling up the stair.
Fine to the heart's core, lover mine!
For over the kettle's winsome plaint,
And the baby's breathing, sweet and faint,
And over the prattle of Will and Kate,
And the clock's impatient “Late! it 's late!”
I heard the blessedest sound of all—
A click of the latch, a step in the hall!
And “Home, sweet home” pulsed all the air
As you came calling up the stair.
| Poems and verses by Mary Mapes Dodge | |