Herr Weiser--! Three-score-years-and-ten--, <br />A hale white rose of his country-men, <br />Transplanted here in the Hoosier loam, <br />And blossomy as his German home-- <br />As blossomy and as pure and sweet <br />As the cool green glen of his calm retreat, <br />Far withdrawn from the noisy town <br />Where trade goes clamoring up and down, <br />Whose fret and fever, and stress and strife, <br />May not trouble his tranquil life! <br /> <br />Breath of rest, what a balmy gust--! <br />Quite of the city's heat and dust, <br />Jostling down by the winding road, <br />Through the orchard ways of his quaint abode--. <br />Tether the horse, as we onward fare <br />Under the pear-trees trailing there, <br />And thumping the wood bridge at night <br />With lumps of ripeness and lush delight, <br />Till the stream, as it maunders on till dawn, <br />Is powdered and pelted and smiled upon. <br /> <br />Herr Weiser, with his wholesome face, <br />And the gentle blue of his eyes, and grace <br />Of unassuming honesty, <br />Be there to welcome you and me! <br />And what though the toil of the farm be stopped <br />And the tireless plans of the place be dropped, <br />While the prayerful master's knees are set <br />In beds of pansy and mignonette <br />And lily and aster and columbine, <br />Offered in love, as yours and mine--? <br /> <br />What, but a blessing of kindly thought, <br />Sweet as the breath of forget-me-not--! <br />What, but a spirit of lustrous love <br />White as the aster he bends above--! <br />What, but an odorous memory <br />Of the dear old man, made known to me <br />In days demanding a help like his--, <br />As sweet as the life of the lily is-- <br />As sweet as the soul of a babe, bloom-wise <br />Born of a lily in paradise.<br /><br />James Whitcomb Riley<br /><br />http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/herr-weiser/
