Poems (Barker)/No Face at the Window

by Alice J. Green Barker

No Face At The Window.

There's no dear face at the window now
 Whenever I pass that way,
The sash is never hastily raised,
 And the breezes never play
Among the masses of dark brown hair,
 Brushed back from the girlish brow,
When I pass the quiet road, I think
 "There's no face at the window now."

'Tis a lonely road, but one pleasant spot
 I saw as I passed that way;
A little cottage embowered in green
 Where the evening breezes play.
And each quiet ride, had a memory sweet
 And it lay in that sunny place,
For in summer or winter the sash was raised
 And I saw the girlish face.

And I grew so used to meeting the smile,
 And answering the fluttering hand,
As it waved a welcome so sweet to me,
 That it came like a glimpse of land;
When a ship has long, long been at sea
 And first the hills appear,
Oh! that was the scene of joy that came
 At the sight of that face so dear.

I pass by the lonely fields as oft
 As I go at my master's call,
But now when the summer roses bloom
 And the voices of song-birds fall,
The breezes never lovingly brush
 The beautiful girlish brow,
The sash is never hastily raised
 There's no face at the window now.

No face at the window! ah me, al me!
 The cottage embowered in green,
Wears a lonely look as I pass that way
 Where once the face was seen—
The blinds are drawn and the silence creeps
 All through the cot, I trow;
And my heart grows sad as I think with a sight
 "There's no face at the window now."

But my eyes have turned to the distant sky
 To the beautiful clouds of gold,
When as by the Father's loving hand
 They silently, softly unfold
And the heavenly breezes brush that brow
 And plays 'mong the soft brown hair,
And her snowy hand is waved to me,
 There's a face in the window there.