THE OLD FAMILY.
297
Not in his day the change came o'er the scenes he loved the best,
He sleeps, nor dreams of what is now, safe gathered to his rest.
He sleeps, nor dreams of what is now, safe gathered to his rest.
The noble-hearted gentleman, who house and hand and heart
So open held, that in his own he only claimed a part;
He bore his state unto the last, the snows of winter fell,[1]
But might not chill the true-born soul that loved us all so well!
So open held, that in his own he only claimed a part;
He bore his state unto the last, the snows of winter fell,[1]
But might not chill the true-born soul that loved us all so well!
How sad it seemed to us to see the velvet lawn unmown,
Weeds springing in the garden that our Lady called her own!
The pleasant lake choked up and dry, and swamped the little boat
That bore the children in their glee so merrily afloat.
Weeds springing in the garden that our Lady called her own!
The pleasant lake choked up and dry, and swamped the little boat
That bore the children in their glee so merrily afloat.
Our fine young gentlemen, no more when Autumn days grow dark,
We hear their loud and cheerful tones come ringing through the park;
Their dogs find other masters now, it seemed to do us wrong
That aught that they had liked so well to others should belong.
We hear their loud and cheerful tones come ringing through the park;
Their dogs find other masters now, it seemed to do us wrong
That aught that they had liked so well to others should belong.
- ↑ A mirthful man was he! the snows of age
Fell on him, but they chilled not.—Scott.
