YOUNG GRANDMOTHER
The summer that I spent with my grandfather
In the white house the maple trees among
Seems a faint nightmare now—the looming terror
Of rooms that looked so wide and high and long
In the white house the maple trees among
Seems a faint nightmare now—the looming terror
Of rooms that looked so wide and high and long
The shallow mirrors reaching to the ceiling
Their gilded grapes and vine-leaves tarnished all,
The mantelpiece upborne by marble Satyrs,
The dark old portraits frowning from the wall
Their gilded grapes and vine-leaves tarnished all,
The mantelpiece upborne by marble Satyrs,
The dark old portraits frowning from the wall
The chandeliers their thousand prisms dangling
Like icicles upon a windless night,
The cat-tail rushes standing up so stiffly
From the huge jars of cloudy blue and white.
Like icicles upon a windless night,
The cat-tail rushes standing up so stiffly
From the huge jars of cloudy blue and white.
Grandfather seldom noticed me; a silent
Grey man was he, and always sitting by
His tall carved desk beneath the oriel window
That stared down at him like a great round eye.
Grey man was he, and always sitting by
His tall carved desk beneath the oriel window
That stared down at him like a great round eye.
My two great-aunts—yes, both of them were maidens,—
Stiff-waisted, thin, with locks of yellow-grey
Looped smoothly over ears of shape patrician,
And high cheekbones where withered rose-tints lay.
Stiff-waisted, thin, with locks of yellow-grey
Looped smoothly over ears of shape patrician,
And high cheekbones where withered rose-tints lay.
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