Classic Poem

Tread yon straggling pathway, seen
Peeping through the hedgerows green,
By the arching willows shaded,
By the briar and bramble braided,
Where the chequering sunbeams throw
Fretted network down below,
Glistening 'mid the velvet sod,
Woven o'er the Old Church Road.

Hanging footpaths, creeping flowers,
Laugh in sun and weep in showers,
Yellow whins and bells of blue
Mingle with the turf's green hue;
While the thistle in his pride
Woos the wild rose by his side:
Love and Peace have blest abode
In the quiet Old Church Road.

Cross yon ancient Roman bridge,
Mark its solitary ridge;
'Mid its rent and tottering walls
Trees spring, while the structure falls:
So Rome lies in ruins grey,
While old Scotia blooms like May;
Here her heroes dauntless strode,
Freedom kept the Old Church Road.

Leave the streamlet's silver tide;
Now we'll climb the green hill-side,
Winding up our wooded way,
Peeping through our covert gay,
Glints of blue in sky and burn
Woo our eye at every turn;
Fancy's fairy feet ne'er trode
Pathway like the Old Church Road.

Now we near the Old Churchyard,
Where amid the long rank sward
Graves are sinking, stones are crumbling,
Monuments and aisles are tumbling;
Waving trees with moaning sound
Sigh like weeping mourners round,
Shading those who wont to plod
Weekly by the Old Church Road.

Now the Gothic pile appears,
Green with moss, and gray with years;
Knight and baron, bold and free,
Here have humbly bent the knee;
Priest and Monk have chanted praise,
Knox hath sung his fervid lays:
Warm hearts, panting after God,
Hallow still the Old Church Road.

See yon Elder hoary grown,
Tend the Widow as his own,
And the blooming youthful pair
Knit more close in mutual prayer;
What though cold-eyed age may see
Childhood in unbridled glee;
Wisdom his grey head may nod,
Children love the Old Church Road.

Thus while Love lies slumbering mild
In this sweet sequester'd wild,
Let us rest on this old stile,
Let us stay our thoughts a while,
Let us mingle heart and eye
With the holy lullaby,
Let us chant our peaceful Ode
'Mid the quiet Old Church Road.

Hail, sweet goddess, gentle Peace!
May War's deadly reign soon cease;
Crown'd in glory, soon may'st thou
Twine the olive round his brow
Soon may foolish man be free
From all bonds, save Love and Thee;
Truth, thy harbinger, abroad,
Make the earth one sweet Church Road.