Page:The poems of Richard Watson Gilder, Gilder, 1908.djvu/470

442 That it never forsook,

How it will run

When the girls pursue it

With frolic and fun!

IV

Old house! old home! Come, light

The fires again on the dear hearths of old.

All must be bright;

Not a room shall be cold;

And on the great hearth,—where, in the old days,

Beside the fierce blaze

There was room, and to spare, for each grown-up and child,—

High let the fire be piled!

V

Old house! Old home! You need no wine

To cheer you now, for the joyous ripple

Of girlish laughter is quite enough tipple!

O, what liquor

Like the innocent shine,

The sparkle and flicker,

In the eyes of youth!

And, of a truth,

'T is youth, old house! 't is youth that fills you;

Youth that calls to you; youth that thrills you.

VI

Old house! Old home! O, do not dare

To be sad, tho' aware

Of the golden, and the raven, and the pretty, pretty curls,

Of the little dead girls—

Treasures put away in the old chest in the garret.

Be glad, old house! the new girls have come to share it:

The great, deep hearth, with room and to spare;