The Open Window


    The old house by the lindens
        Stood silent in the shade,
    And on the gravelled pathway
        The light and shadow played.

    I saw the nursery windows
        Wide open to the air;
    But the faces of the children,
        They were no longer there.

    The large Newfoundland house-dog
        Was standing by the door;
    He looked for his little playmates,
        Who would return no more.

    They walked not under the lindens,
        They played not in the hall;
    But shadow, and silence, and sadness
        Were hanging over all.

    The birds sang in the branches,
        With sweet, familiar tone;
    But the voices of the children
        Will be heard in dreams alone!

    And the boy that walked beside me,
        He could not understand
    Why closer in mine, ah! closer,
        I pressed his warm, soft hand!


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Return to the Henry Wadsworth Longfellow Home Page, or . . . Read the next poem; The Phantom Ship

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