The Old Man Dreams

The blackened walnut in its spicy hull Rots where it fell; And, in the orchard, where the trees stand full, The pear’s brown bell Drops; and the log-house in the bramble lane, From whose low door Stretch yellowing acres of the corn and cane, He sees once more.

The cat-bird sings upon its porch of pine; And o’er its gate, All slender-podded, twists the trumpet-vine Its leafy weight: And in the woodland, by the spring, mayhap, With eyes of joy Again he bends to set a rabbit-trap, A brown-faced boy.

Then, whistling, through the underwoods he goes, Out of the wood, Where, with young cheeks, red as an autumn rose, In gingham hood, His sweetheart waits, her school-books on her arm: And now it seems Beside his chair bends down his wife’s fair form-- The old man dreams.