The Old Barn

Oh! a jolly old place is grandpa's barn,
Where the doors stand open throughout the day,
And the cooing doves fly in and out,
And the air is sweet with the fragrant hay.

Where the grain lies over the oaken floor
And the hens are busily scratching around,
And the sunbeams flicker, and dance, and shine,
And the breeze blows through with a merry sound

The swallows twitter and chirp all day
With fluttering wings in the old brown eaves,
And robin sing in the trees which lean
To brush the roof with their rustling leaves.

The timid mice in the corner glean
A harvest sly from the scattered grain,
And the insects hum in the well-filled lofts,
And build their nests on the window-pane.

Oh! dear old barn, where my childish days
Were passed full oft, how I long to be
Only a child again, to play
Beneath thy roof with the old-time glee.

The Old Barn ~ Mary Dow Brine 1816-1913