GRANDFATHER'S HOUSE (inscribed to Uncle Enoch) Still stands the old house on the hill, Beside the open'sea. Where it has stood for years and years, Almost a century. It's spacious rooms are silent now. No tones of youthful glee Make them resound with joyous mirth And glad festivity. The old hillside remains the same As in the long ago; When youngsters coasted on their sleds, Through winters ice and snow. And 'neath the hill the glassy pond Lies sheltered in the glen, Where now the merry skaters glide, The same as they did then. The primitive, old-fashioned well Below the kitchen door, Is filledwith water, clear and cool, As in the days of yore. And there within the mossy curb Hangs rope and bucket too; The windlass draws them to the brink, Just as it used to do. Beyond the house, old ocean breaks And dashes on the shore, In foamy, tossing, splashing waves, With angry, sullen roar. Yet, often-times those boisterous waves Serene and calmly lie, Reflecting hills and forest trees, And cloudless, azure sky. 564