Page:All quiet along the Potomac and other poems.djvu/214

 2O8 THE OLD DOORSTONE.

Where the stones of the marble village Stand thickly side by side.&quot;

Where a rift in the budding clover Had furrowed a rugged mark,

O er the breast of the silent sleeper To the opal came back its spark.

��THE OLD DOORSTONE.

&quot; T AM going, old house ! You belong to a stranger, 1 Old house, that was Eden in days that are o er.

I am going, old garden ! Good-bye!&quot; How I linger Upon the stone step that is close by the door !

Worn by the footsteps of those who have loved me ;

Worn by the tread that shall pass it no more ; Worn by the feet that walked in at the threshold,

But outward were borne through the wide-open door;

Rosy with flowers we twined in the spring-time, Blushing with blossoms the summer-time bore,

Littered with golden-hued leaves of the autumn, Or mantled in snow, lay the stone by the door.

There, sit at eventide, memories tender,

And shadows of day-dreams that died long ago ;

These, sweeter than roses and fairer than flowers Those, sadder than autumn leaves, colder than snow.

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