Page:The poems of Edmund Clarence Stedman, 1908.djvu/106

POEMS OF MANHATTAN Through those panelled doors

Trailed their furbelows:

Long their day has ceased;

Now, beneath the sod,

With the worms they feast,—

Down the old house goes!

Many a bride has stood

In yon spacious room;

Here her hand was wooed

Underneath the rose;

O'er that sill the dead

Reached the family tomb:

All, that were, have fled,—

Down the old house goes!

Once, in yonder hall,

Washington, they say,

Led the New-Year's ball,

Stateliest of beaux.

O that minuet,

Maids and matrons gay!

Are there such sights yet?

Down the old house goes.

British troopers came

Ere another year,

With their coats aflame,

Mincing on their toes;

Daughters of the house

Gave them haughty cheer,

Laughed to scorn their vows,—

Down the old house goes!

Doorway high the box

In the grass-plot spreads;

It has borne its locks

Through a thousand snows; 76