Memorial Sonnet, 1908

This is the house where little Aldrich read The early pages of Life's wonder-book With boyish pleasure: in this ingle-nook He watched the drift-wood fire of Fancy shed Bright colour on the pictures blue and red: Boy-like he skipped the longer words, and took His happy way, with searching, dreamful look Among the deeper things more simply said.

Then, came his turn to write: and still the flame Of Fancy played through all the tales he told, And still he won the laurelled poet's fame With simple words wrought into rhymes of gold. Look, here's the face to which this house is frame,-- A man too wise to let his heart grow old!