Poems (Larcom)/The Old School-House
THE OLD SCHOOL-HOUSE.
I PASSED it yesterday again, The school-house by the river, Where you and I were children, Jane, And used to glow and shiver In heats of June, December's frost; And where, in rainy weather, The swollen roadside brook we crossed So many times together.
I felt the trickle of the rain From your wet ringlets dripping; I caught your blue eye's twinkle, Jane, When we were nearly slipping; And thought, while you in fear and glee Were clinging to my shoulder,"O, will she trust herself to me, When we are ten years older?"
For I was full of visions vain,— The boy's romantic hunger. You were the whole school's darling, Jane, And many summers younger. Your head a cherub's used to look, With sunbeams on it lying, Bent downward to your spelling-book, For long and hard words prying.
The mountains through the window-pane Showered over you their glory. The awkward farm-boy loved you, Jane: You know the old, old story. I never watch the sunset now Upon those misty ranges, But your bright lips, and cheek, and brow, Gleam out of all its changes.
I wonder if you see that chain On memory's dim horizon; There 's not a lovelier picture, Jane, To rest even your sweet eyes on. The Haystacks each an airy tent, The Notch a gate of splendor; And river, sky, and mountains blent In twilight radiance tender.
I wonder,—with a flitting pain,— If thoughts of me returning, Are mingled with the mountains, Jane: I stifle down that yearning.—A rich man's wife, on you no claim Have I, lost dreams to rally; Yet Pemigewasset sings your name Along its winding valley:
And once I hoped that for us twain Might fall one calm life-closing; That Campton hills might guard us, Jane, In one green grave reposing. They say the old man's heart is rock: You never thought so, never! And, loving you alone, I lock The school-house door forever!