Classic Poem

" MINE be a cot, " for the hours of play,
Of the kind that is built by Miss G REEN-AWAY :
Where the walls are low, and the roofs are red,
And the birds are gay in the blue o'erhead;
And the dear little figures, in frocks and frills,
Go roaming about at their own sweet wills,
And " play with the pups, " and " reprove the calves, "
And do nought in the world (but Work) by halves,
From " Hunt the Slipper " and " Riddle-me-ree "
To watching the cat in the apple-tree.

O Art of the Household! Men may prate
Of their ways " intense " and Italianate, —
They may soar on their wings of sense, and float
To the au dela and the dim remote, —
Till the last sun sink in the last-lit West,
'Tis the Art at the Door that will please the best;
To the end of Time 'twill be still the same,
For the Earth first laughed when the children came!