A Child-World

O Child-World: After this world—just as when I found you first sufficed My soulmost need—if I found you again, With all my childish dream so realised, I should not be surprised._


A Child-World, yet a wondrous world no less, To those who knew its boundless happiness.


A simple old frame house—eight rooms in all—


Set just one side the center of a small But very hopeful Indiana town,—


The upper-story looking squarely down Upon the main street, and the main highway From East to West,—historic in its day, Known as The National Road—old-timers, all Who linger yet, will happily recall It as the scheme and handiwork, as well As property, of "Uncle Sam," and tell Of its importance, "long and long afore Railroads wuz ever dreamp' of!"—Furthermore, The reminiscent first Inhabitants Will make that old road blossom with romance Of snowy caravans, in long parade Of covered vehicles, of every grade From ox-cart of most primitive design, To Conestoga wagons, with their fine Deep-chested six-horse teams, in heavy gear, High names and chiming bells—to childish ear And eye entrancing as the glittering train Of some sun-smitten pageant of old Spain.