Amen!
The old house under the elms is still the poet's home, and dear, as such, to every lover of poetry. It is a stately building, of the style of more than one hundred years ago, and is a very home-like place in its general appearance. Entering by the main door-way, which is in the center of the house, the visitor finds himself in a wide, old-fashioned hall, with doors opening upon it on either hand.
"The library of the poet is the long north-eastern room upon the lower floor," said a writer seventeen years ago. "It opens upon the garden, which retains still the quaint devices of an antique design, harmonious with the house. The room is surrounded with handsome book-cases, and one stands also between two Corinthian columns at one end, which imparts dignity and richness to the apartment. A little table by the northern window, looking upon the garden, is the usual seat of the poet. A bust or two, the rich carvings of the cases, the spaciousness of the room, a leopard-skin lying upon the floor, and a few shelves of strictly literary curiosities, reveal not only the haunt of the elegant scholar and poet, but the favorite resort of the family circle. But the northern gloom of a New England winter is intolerant of this serene delight, this beautiful domesticity, and urges the inmates to the smaller room in front of the house, communicating with the library, and the study of General Washington. This is still distinctively 'the study,' as the rear room is 'the library,' Books are here, and all the graceful detail of an elegant household, and upon the walls hang crayon portraits of Emerson, Sumner, and Hawthorne.
"Emerging into the hall, the eyes of the enamored visitor fall upon the massive old staircase, with the clock upon the landing. Directly he hears a singing in his mind:
'Somewhat back from the village street,
Stands the old-fashioned country-seat;
Across its antique portico
Tall poplar trees their shadows throw,
And from its station in the hall
An ancient time-piece says to all,