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The house had
gone to bring again
To the midnight sky a sunset
glow.
Now the chimney was all of the house that
stood,
Like a pistil after the petals go.
The barn
opposed across the way,
That would have joined the
house in flame
Had it been the will of the wind, was
left
To bear forsaken the place's name.
No more it
opened with all one end
For teams that came by the
stony road
To drum on the floor with scurrying hoofs
And brush the mow with the summer load.
The birds
that came to it through the air
At broken windows
flew out and in,
Their murmur more like the sigh we
sigh
From too much dwelling on what has been.
Yet
for them the lilac renewed its leaf,
And the aged
elm, though touched with fire;
And the dry pump flung
up an awkward arm;
And the fence post carried a
strand of wire.
For them there was really nothing
sad.
But though they rejoiced in the nest they kept,
One had to be versed in country things
Not to believe
the phoebes wept.
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