Page:Poems Cook.djvu/243

A brother was ready—the pony was caught—
Brought in he must be—yet where could he be brought?
But short was the parley; and munching away,
He was warm in the barn with his oats and his hay.

The barn was the place where the beams and the rope
Gave our mischievous faculties plenty of scope;
And when rick-lines were found, knotted, sever'd, and fray'd,
Not a word did we breathe of the swings we had made.

"Hide and Seek" was the game that delighted us most,
When we stealthily crept behind pillar and post;
When the law was enforced that "Home" should not be won
Till we'd encircled the barn in our scampering run.

I'd a merry heart then,—but I scarcely know why
I should look into Memory's page with a sigh;
'Tis ungrateful to turn to the past with regret,
When we hold a fair portion of happiness yet.

My laugh in that day was a spirited shout,
But still it is heard to ring joyously out;
My friends were the warmest that childhood could find,
But those round me still are endearingly kind.

"Long ago" has too often awaken'd my soul,
Till my brow gather'd shade, and the tear-drop would roll;
Down, down, busy thought, for the future may be
As bright as the time of the Old Barn for me.

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