- No hay upon the wide-spread mow,
- No horses in the stalls,
- No broad-toed oxen, sheep or cows
- Within the time-worn walls.
- The wind howls through its shattered doors,
- Now swinging to and fro;
- And o'er its once frequented floors
- No footsteps come and go.
- But once, alas! each vacant bay,
- And every space around,
- Was teeming with sweet-scented nay,
- The harvest of the ground.
- And well-fed cattle in a row,
- At mangers ranged along,
- Each fastened by an oaken bow
- Stood at the stanchions strong.
- But where so long ago old Dobbin stood,
- His master's pride and care,
- And from his hand received his food,
- And now is vacant there.
- Then these broad fields, from hill to plain,
- Waved in the summer air,
- With choicest crops of grass or grain,
- Now left so bleak and bare.
- How sweet the music of the flail,
- Resounding far and clear,
- As borne upon the passing gale
- It reached the distant ear.
- The blackbird hailed the dewy morn
- From out his rushy perch;
- The sparrow sand upon the thorn,
- The cat-bird on the birch.
- The robin from the highest tree
- Sent forth his whistle clear,
- His soul partaking of the glee
- That wakes the vernal year.
- And childhood's merry shout was heard
- The farm-yard choir strong,
- Which, mingling with the note of bird,
- Enriched the tide of song.
- The master on his daily round
- With conscious pride would go,
- His faithful dog, close by him found,
- Attending to and fro.
- Old honest "Trip" long since has gone,
- And moulders 'neath the wall;
- No more he takes the welcome bone,
- Or hears his master's call.
- The kindly master, too has died,
- The matron in her grace,
- And dead, or scattered far and wide,
- The remnant of their race.
History and Legacy of Wild Birds Including Historic Ornithology and Other Topics of Interest
30 January 2014
The Old Barn
Labels:
poetry