THE OLD PIANO.
OW still and dusky is the long-closed room!
What lingering shadows and what faint perfume
Of Eastern treasures!—sandal wood and scent
With nard and cassia and with roses blent.
Let in the sunshine.
Quaint cabinets are here, boxes and fans,
And hoarded letters full of hopes and plans.
I pass them by. I came once more to see