Missouri Country Life Conference. 179 



THE HOUSE IN THE MEADOW. 



It stands in a sunny meadow 



A house so mossy and brown. 



With its cumbrous old stone chimneys 



And the gray roof sloping down. 



The trees fold their green arms round it. 

 The trees a century old, 

 And the winds go chanting through them 

 And the sunbeams sift their gold. 



The cowslips spring in the meadow. 

 The roses bloom on the hill. 

 And beside the brook in the pasture 

 The herds go feeding at will. 



Within in the wide old kitchen 



The old folks sit in the sun 



That creeps through the sheltering woodbine, 



When the day is almost done. 



Their children grew and left them. 

 They sit in the sun alone. 

 And the old wife's ears are failing 

 As she harks to the well-known tune. 



That won her heart in her girlhood 

 And has soothed her through many a care. 

 And praises her now for the brightness 

 Her old face used to wear. 



She thinks again of her bridal 

 How, dressed in her robe of white. 

 She stood by her gay young lover 

 In the morning's rosy light. 



The morning is rosy as ever. 



But the rose from her cheek has fled. 



The sunshine still is golden, 



But it falls on a silvered head. 



And the girlhood's dreams once vanished 

 Come back in her winter's prime 

 Till her feebler pulses tremble 

 With a love that outlasted time. 



And looking forth from the window 

 She thinks how the trees have grown 

 Since, clad in her bridal whiteness. 

 She crossed the old doorstone. 



Tho' dimmed her eyes bright azure 

 And dimmed her hairs young gold. 

 The love in her girlhood plighted 

 Has neither grown dim nor old. 



Perhaps in that miracle country 



They will give her lost youth back 



And the flowers of the vanished springtime 



Will bloom in the spirits track. 



One draught from the living waters 

 Shall call back his manhood's prime. 

 And eternal years shall measure 

 A love that outlasted time. 



