Classic Poem

1

She will come tho' she loiter, believe,
Her pledge it assigns not the day;
Why brood by the embers night after night,
Sighing over their dying away —
Well, let her delay;
She is everywhere longed for as here;
A favorite, freakish and young:
Her can we gladden, then us she can cheer?
Let us think no wrong.

2

But watch and wait:
Wait by the pasture-bars
Or watch by the garden-gate;
For, after coming, tho' wide she stray,
First ever she shows on the slender way —
Slim sheep-track threads the hill-side brown,
Or foot-path leads to the garden down.

3

While snow lingered under the fir,
Loth to melt from embrace of the earth,
And ashy red embers of logs
In moonlight dozed on the hearth;
And in cage by the window sun-warmed
Our bird was enheartened to song;
It was then that, as yearly before,
By the self-same foot-path along,
She drew to the weather-beat door
That was sunned thro' the skeleton-tree:
Nothing she said, but seemed to say —
" Old folks, aren't ye glad to see me! "
And tears brimmed our eyes — bless the day!

Then she turned; revisited in sort —
She was here — she was there,
Peeping eager everywhere,
Like one who revisits scenes never forgot.