Old House

Poor old deserted house–
You look so tired, standing there.
You’ve seen too much of life,
Too much of human sorrow.
Each of your rooms holds
Secrets innumerable
Of joys and heartaches,
Elation and despair.
Every tear and every smile
Has left a wrinkle in your gray face,
But you have grown old
In a gracious, graceful way.
Your dignity far surpasses
That of many houses
Built more recently, and I pray
That, growing old, I may attain
Some of the charm and grace
That many years have earned for you.

August 13, 1939