Page:Poems Cook.djvu/248

But the grandfather waned from the earth, day by day,—
 Hoards must be open'd and treasures must fall;
No selfish heart watch'd o'er his "passing away,"
 Yet that stick was the coveted relic by all.

Serenely the old man went down to his grave,
 Looking on to a future with faith, hope, and joy;
But, ere the flame died in the socket, he gave
 His favourite stick to his favourite boy.

That boy was a spendthrift, all reckless and gay,
 Keeping nought but a warm heart and fair honest name;
He was wild in his home—a few years roll'd away,
 He was out in the world, but the man was the same.

He parted from all—from his land and his gold;
 But, with wealth or without, it was all one to Dick;
The same merry laugh lit his face when he told
 That he'd nothing more left save his grandfather's stick.

The merry laugh still echoed out, though he found
 That friends turn'd their backs when his money was spent;
He sung, "The world's wide, and I'll travel it round,"—
 And far from his kindred the wanderer went.

He lives and yet laughs in the prodigal's part;
 But whatever his fortune—wherever his land,
There's a lock of white hair hanging close to his heart,
 And an ash staff—the Grandfather's Stick—in his hand.

232