Classic Poem

It is not easy to forsake old places,—
A house where you have lived long and grown content.
Small familiar things, covertly tenacious,
Still hold you; the heart protests their banishment.

It may be good to feel the creak of stairways
Under a worn tread, and know that even pain
And sorrow that hang here close in memories,
Are mellowed, as stones worn in winter and rain.

Yet when the time comes, and need of life presses
For a fresh creation, new pattern and shape
To catch the daylight, be strong and ruthless.
Let the stones fall; only hold beyond escape

A bare design that laid the old foundation,
Which stood against the winds, made comfort and bed
For love and sleep, a fire on the hearth, a vista
Beyond the eaves, a shelter over the head.

These things were good, they shall be good forever.
If old walls crumble, you can build them once more.
Scatter the shadows, go out, do not linger.
Life changes and moves, it calls beside your door.