Page:All quiet along the Potomac and other poems.djvu/82

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HE hurry of the moving is over, And this is our bright new home, Where never a sob has sounded, Where never a sin has come.

We seem to be shorter people, So missing our ceiling low; The hall and the winding stairway Seem very long ways to go.

I stand on the threshold thinking Of guests we shall hither bring— Guests who within are waiting, Smiling or sorrowing.

We bring it some pleasant laughter; Some tears, as a mortal must; Some prayers, with our full thanksgiving; Some treasure that may not rust.

We'll find merry youth for Mabel; For Fred there is manhood s crown; For the mother, life's sweet autumn, Golden, and red, and brown.

For me, as I linger longer, The silvery sifting snow That comes in the truthful mirror As youth and its roses go.