The Old Kitchen Floor

The Old Kitchen Floor
3308

Far back in my musings my thoughts have been cast,
To the spot where the hours of my childhood wero passed
I loved ali its rooms, to the pantry and hall,
But that blessed old kitchen was dearer than all
Its chairs and its tables none brighter could be,
-For all its surroundings were sacred to me
To the nall in the ceiling, to the latch on the door,
Yes, I loved every crack in that old kitchen ficor

I remember the fireplace, with mouth high and wide,
And the old fashioned oven that stood by its side
Out of which euch Thanksgiving came pudding and ples
Which fairly bewildered and dazzled our eyes
And then old St Nicholas slyly and sti
Came down every Christmas our ou stockings to fill
But dearest of memories lald up in store
Are dear mother of thee on that old kitchen floor

Day in and day out, and from morning till night
Her footsteps were busy, her heart always light,
For it seemed to me then that she had not a care,
The smiles were so gentle her face used to wear
I remember with pleasure what joy filled our cur
As around her we gathered strange stories to hear:
They were now every night though we’d heard them before
From her lips at the wheel on that old kitchen floor

Tonight those old visions come back at their will,
But the wheel and its music forever are still,
The hand is moth eaten, the wheel laid away,
And the fingers that turned it He moldering in clay
The hearthstone so sacred is just as ’twas then
The volces of children ring out there again
The sun through the window looks in as of yore
But it sees other feet on the old kitchen floor

I ask not for treasures, but this I do crave
That when the lips speaking are closed in the grave
My children will gather theirs round at their side
And tell of the mother that long ago died
Twould be more enduring, far dearer to me
Than Inscriptions on marble or granite could be
To have them toll often as I did of yore
Of the mother they loved on that old kitchen floor