  The old house by the lindens Stood silent in the shade, And on the graveled pathway The light and shadow played. I saw the nursery windows Wide open to the air, But the faces of the children, They were no longer there. The large Newfoundland house dog Was standing by the door; He looked for his little playmates, Who would return no more. They walked not under the lindens, They played not in the hall; But shadow, and silence, and sadness Were hanging over all. The birds sang in the branches With sweet, familiar tone; But the voices of the children Will be heard in dreams alone! —Henry Wadsworth Longfellow. |
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