Cable Hollow

Yes Cable Hollow was my home, and
      glad I am to speak the truth:
Yes here my birth-right was announced,
      and here I spent the days of youth;
And here I saw the sunbeam fair, and
      loved the dawning of the day,
With buds and blossoms which unite
      to cheer the happy month of May,

That valley seems as sacred ground;
      our parents; brothers sisters too
Went forth in early morn to toil; to
      touch the pearls; the morning dew:
The sun streamed down from o'er the
      hill, with little threads of gold
      to tell
That we were stitching up the suits,
      for future life, and very well.

We could not see the railroad trains;
      the little brook we saw instead:
It gurgled down quite near our door;
      its little fish I often fed;
I see· those busy schools today,
      although the home and fish are gone,
Yet I can picture very clear, the jolly
      plays about the lawn.

Our Ponto joined in the play; the
      sweet Canary sang the songs
For which again the heart may ache;
      for which again the traveler longs;
But all in vain: the creek is dry; the
      trees are cut from off the hill,
And something to that happy feast,
      has seemed to say, be still,
      be still.

The stars are beaming down tonight,
      as if to seek the long ago;
As if to find the knowing face; but
      far from there they have to go;
Yet memory takes me back again, to
      chisel on a rock my name
That I may see should I return, that
      this at least is still the same.

Warren, Pa.
September 17, 1918