Poems (Barker)/No Face at the Window
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 playAmong 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 unfoldAnd 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.