Classic Poem

Upon the house a crooked sign
Succinctly said, “For Sale or Rent”;
The bugles on the trumpet-vine
Proclaimed their shocked astonishment,
While all the morning-glory eyes
Were closed against their hurt surprise.

The threshold which no alien feet
Had pressed, became a thoroughfare
For commoners from off the street,
Who came to pry around and stare
At gentlefolk, whose one regard
Seemed fear of trampling up the yard.

But in behind the shuttered pane,
Two old ones sat with folded hands
And lips compressed, not to complain
Although they lost their farms and lands
And all their slender livelihood.
They had each other—God was Good!

Upon the house a crooked sign
Succinctly said, “For Sale or Rent”;
The bugles on the trumpet-vine
Proclaimed their shocked astonishment,
While all the morning-glory eyes
Were closed against their hurt surprise.

The threshold which no alien feet
Had pressed, became a thoroughfare
For commoners from off the street,
Who came to pry around and stare
At gentlefolk, whose one regard
Seemed fear of trampling up the yard.

But in behind the shuttered pane,
Two old ones sat with folded hands
And lips compressed, not to complain
Although they lost their farms and lands
And all their slender livelihood.
They had each other—God was Good!