I BUILT a house, four perfect walls and strong, To hold the kindly roof, whose shelt'ring eve Did tempt the darting swallows from their flight To nest and stay all loth and late to leave. Wide windows, planned to hold the circling sun Each in its hour—to no fair prospect blind. Deep hearths to bid the stranger welcome here To this good house with so much thought design'd. I built a house that shall the years withstand, I—who to dust must fall in life's swift race, As shall he too who tenant follows here— For whom, then, have I built this pleasant place? I set a tree, and with much labour brought Rich loam about its root, and bent it so That each young branch, outspreading in the sun, Reflects in shadow on the sod below. I oft with care surveyed its slender height In fear lest blasting wind should bite its green, And smiled at last to see the timid leaves In floating pennants where the bud had been. I set a tree that shall the storms withstand Nor soon to wither 'neath Time's hand afraid, I whom the years shall break and overthrow. For whom, then, have I planned this welcome shade? |