The old house by the lindens
Stood silent in the shade,
And on the gravelled pathway
The light and shadow played. I saw the nursery windows
Wide open to the air;
But the faces of the children,
They were no longer there. The large Newfoundland house-dog
Was standing by the door;
He looked for his little playmates,
Who would return no more. They walked not under the lindens,
They played not in the hall;
But shadow, and silence, and sadness
Were hanging over all. The birds sang in the branches,
With sweet, familiar tone;
But the voices of the children
Will be heard in dreams alone! And the boy that walked beside me,
He could not understand
Why closer in mine, ah! Closer,
I pressed his warm, soft hand!