Poems (Trask)/The Old Barn
For works with similar titles, see The Old Barn.
THE OLD BARN.
Rickety, old, and crazy, Shingleless, lacking some doors; Bad in the upper story, Wanting boards in the floors; Cobwebs over the rafters, Ridge-pole rotten and gray, Hanging in helpless impotence Over the mows of hay.
Oh, how I loved the shadows That clung to the silent roof! Day-dreams wove with the quiet Many a glittering woof! I climbed to the highest cross-beam, Watched the swallows at play,Admired the knots in the boarding, And rolled in billows of hay.
Roughly the winds tore round it, Winds of a stormy day,—Scattering the fragrant hay-seed, Whirling the straws away! Streaming in at the crannies, Spreading the clover smell, Changing that dark old granary Into a flowery dell.