Classic Poem

Mein Kind, wir waren Kinder

My child, we once were children,
Two children, blithe and gay,
We used to crawl up to the hen-house
And hide ourselves under the hay.

We cackled and crowed whenever
People passed down the road —
" Kikerikee! " they thought it
Was really the cocks that crowed.

The boxes in our courtyard
We draped with what we could find,
And lived in them together,
A home of the cosiest kind.

Our neighbor's cat came often
To visit us in our bower;
We met her with bows and curtsies
And compliments by the hour.

Politely we asked how her health was,
In the course of a friendly chat.
(We've said the same things since then
To many a grave, old cat.)

And often like old folk we gossiped,
Aping their serious ways;
Complaining how things were better
In " the dead and dear old days."

How Love and Faith and Honor
Were lost without regret;
How coffee was so expensive,
And money so hard to get! . . .

Gone are the plays of childhood,
And all things seem a wraith —
Time and the world and money,
And Love and Honor and Faith.