Classic Poem

The waters roll, quick-bubbling by the shoal,
Or leap the rock, outfoaming in a bow;
The wind blows free in gushes round the tree,
Along the grove of oaks in double row,
Where lovers seek the maidens' evening floor,
With stip-step light, and tip-tap slight,
Against the door.

With iron bound, the wheel-rims roll around,
And crunch the crackling flint below their load;
The gravel trod by horses ironshod
All crackles shrill along the beaten road,
Where lovers come to seek, in our old place,
With stip-step light, and tip-tap slight,
The maidens' face.

And oh! how sweet's the time the lover's feet
May come before the door to seek a bride,
As he may stand, and knock with shaking hand,
And lean to hear the sweetest voice inside;
While there a heart will leap to hear once more
The stip-step light, and tip-tap slight,
Against the door.

How sweet's the time, when we are in our prime,
With children, now our care and aye our joy;
And child by child may scamper, skipping wild,
Back home from school or play-games, girl or boy,
And there upon the door-stone leap once more,
With stip-step light, and tip-tap slight,
Against the door.

Be my abode beside some uphill road,
Where people pass along, if not abide;
And not a place where day may bring no face
With kindly smiles, as lonesome hours may glide;
But let me hear some friend well-known before,
With stip-step light, and tip-tap slight,
Against the door.