Vane of Quillcote

Vane of Quillcote.
63.2

There’s an old gray barn where the swallows used to flit,
All spicy and fragrant with hay:
Thro its sunlit gloom ran the children to and fro,
And their laughter was ringing all the day.
On the high-piled mow they would clamber hand in hand,
To the barn-chamber doors they would cling.
Gazing far, far up to the sil- ver-shingled roof,
Where the shining weather- vane used to swing.

CHORUS

Turn, oh vane of Quillcotest
Bright emblem, turn to-day,
While we sing one song for the weather-vane that’s gone.
For the weather-vane of days far away.

There’s a fragrance rare in those half-forgotten days,
As mem’ry brings back their delight,
When the world seemed clad in a cloud of rosy hue,
And our virions and our dreams shimmered bright.
We have traveled far since
we ran about the barn,
Since we frolicked and tossed in the hay,
But our hearts still yearn for the old familiar farm,
For the weather-vane of days far away.