Upon the house a crooked sign Succinctly said, "For Sale or Rent"; The bugles on the trumpet-vine Proclaimed their shocked astonishment, While all the morning-glory eyes Were closed against their hurt surprise. The threshold which no alien feet Had pressed, became a thoroughfare For commoners from off the street, Who came to pry around and stare At gentlefolk, whose one regard Seemed fear of trampling up the yard. But in behind the shuttered pane, Two old ones sat with folded hands And lips compressed, not to complain Although they lost their farms and lands And all their slender livelihood. They had each other -- God was Good! |