HERE we came when love was young. <br />Now that love is old, <br />Shall we leave the floor unswept <br />And the hearth acold? <br />Here the hill-wind in the dusk, <br />Wandering to and fro, <br />Moves the moonflowers, like a ghost <br />Of the long ago. <br />Here from every doorway looks <br />A remembered face, <br />Every sill and panel wears <br />A familiar grace. <br />Let the windows smile again <br />To the morning light, <br />And the door stand open wide <br />When the moon is bright. <br />Let the breeze of twilight blow <br />Through the silent hall, <br />And the dreaming rafters hear <br />How the thrushes call. <br />Oh, be merciful and fond <br />To the house that gave <br />All its best to shelter love, <br />Built when love was brave! <br />Here we came when love was young. <br />Now that love is old, <br />Never let its day be lone, <br />Nor its heart acold!<br /><br />Bliss William Carman<br /><br />http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/the-homestead-2/
