The Two Angels and Other Poems By Alexander Anderson ... with an Introductory Sketch by Rev. George Gilfillan |
THE OLD SCHOOL-HOUSE. |
The Two Angels and Other Poems | ||
THE OLD SCHOOL-HOUSE.
Ah! often when coming from labour,
When I hear the children play,
There rises within me a vision
Of the school-house far away—
When I hear the children play,
There rises within me a vision
Of the school-house far away—
The old, dark, humble school-house,
That stood by the little stream,
That babbled and splash'd in the sunshine,
Or slipp'd into pools to dream.
That stood by the little stream,
That babbled and splash'd in the sunshine,
Or slipp'd into pools to dream.
And, again, as I think of my childhood,
And its circle of sunny land,
Comes the wish to stand by that streamlet,
As of old I used to stand—
And its circle of sunny land,
89
As of old I used to stand—
Just to listen again to its murmurs,
As I did in that early time,
When my life—before and behind me—
Had the ring of a poet's rhyme:
As I did in that early time,
When my life—before and behind me—
Had the ring of a poet's rhyme:
Or to stand on the bridge with the children,
And give one long, deep shout,
That might sweep from my bosom's chamber
The dust of manhood out.
And give one long, deep shout,
That might sweep from my bosom's chamber
The dust of manhood out.
For I weary and fret at the knowledge
This manhood has brought to me,
And forever look back with a longing
To the glory that used to be.
This manhood has brought to me,
And forever look back with a longing
To the glory that used to be.
But vain is that pent-up yearning,
And wish for the summer gleam
That ran through my young existence,
Like the plot through a fairy's dream.
And wish for the summer gleam
That ran through my young existence,
Like the plot through a fairy's dream.
It has sunk away as the sunshine
May fade from the breast of a hill,
And the shadow that now is around me
Is misty and drear and chill.
May fade from the breast of a hill,
And the shadow that now is around me
Is misty and drear and chill.
But still, when I come from my labour,
If I hear the children play,
Then my heart goes back to the school-house
And the village far away.
If I hear the children play,
Then my heart goes back to the school-house
And the village far away.
The Two Angels and Other Poems | ||