Barren
and brown, in wind and rain the front gate swings and swings,
With
hinges rusty from the years, a mournful song it sings;
O,
many burdens has it borne, sweet burdens not its own,
And
now it’s old and weather stained, and swinging all alone.
The
old gate swings and creaks away, scarce able now to stay,
Where
once it held a maiden fair, a maiden blithe and gay;
A
youth upon the other side, two voices soft and low,
O,
happy was the old front gate, so many years ago!
Ah!
Many futures have been planned across the old front gate;
And
some have known a happy course and some a tragic fate.
It
listened to the hopes and fears of young hearts beating fast,
And
thought that, like their golden dreams, it would forever last.
But
years have come and years have gone, and youths and maidens, too,
Each
couple standing by the gate a quiet hour to woo;
The
stars looked down and blessed the ones who swung it to and fro –
But
that was when the gate was strong, so many years ago!
The
farmhouse is deserted now, the yard, with weeds o’er grown,
The
birds who nested all about the trees have southward flown;
The
fence leans outward here and there in stages of decay,
And
briars form a tangled mess where roses once lined the way.
Where
now the maidens and the youths who lingered nightly there,
Where
now the hopeful hopes and plans devoid of every care?
The
silent stars will not disclose, the old gate waits in vain,
And
waves its unprotected head in winter’s wind and rain.
Ah!
Lone, deserted old front gate you’ve had your halcyon day
Like
those who leaned across your arm, you’re weakened, old and gray;
You’ve
felt the touch of fervent youth, you’ve heard love’s sweet refrain,
But
comes a day you too must know the loneliness and pain.
Swing
on, swing on unto the end, and croon your plaintive song,
You’ve
done your best in love and truth to help the world along;
Swing
to and fro in wind and rain, a monument to fate,
And
know some soul remembers you, O, lonely old front gate!
Nov.
5, ‘09
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