From "Harbaugh's Harfe." Published by the Publication and Sunday School Board of the Reformed Church, Philadelphia, Pa. Used by permission.
THE OLD SCHOOL-HOUSE AT THE CREEK.
Today it is just twenty years,
Since I began to roam;
Now, safely back, I stand once more,
Before the quaint old school-house door,
Close by my father's home.
I've been in many houses since,
Of marble built, and brick;
Though grander far, their aim they miss,
To lure heart's old love from this
Old school-house at the creek.
* * * * * * *
The white-oak stands before the door,
And shades the roof at noon;
The grape-vine, too, is fresh and green;
The robin's nest!—Ah, hark!—I ween
That is the same old tune!
* * * * * * *
'Twas here I first attended school,
When I was very small;
There was the Master on his stool,
There was his whip and there his rule—
I seem to see it all.
The long desks ranged along the walls,
With books and inkstands crowned;
Here on this side the large girls sat,
And there the tricky boys on that—
See! how they peep around!