Classic Poem

Towns, lovers, quarrels, bloom—
All change from day to day,
But not that stedfast room,
Far and far away.

The stiff chairs ranged around,
The blue jar flowered wide.
The quick, close, racing sound
Of poplar trees outside—

I daresay all are there;
There still two pictures keep—
The girl so tall and fair;
Christ with His foolish sheep.