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From: <>
Subject: [NFLD-LAB] RAG
Date: Mon, 6 Sep 1999 23:53:35 EDT

Here is a well written poem given to me in Chapel's Cove.

Typed exactly as written, spelling and all.

You might shed a tear!!

Judy

THE COTTAGE IN WHICH I WAS BORN

As I passed by the wayside, the church bells were ringing.
The labourers were cutting and gathering the corn.
Above the white cloudlets, the skylarkes were singing,
as I passed by the cottage in which I was born.

In the hedges the robbins, their warm nests were building.
The swallow peeped forth from it’s moss covered patch.
The gateway was covered with deep trailing ivy.
My heart gave a bound as I lifted the latch.

The laburnums were drooping their rich golden fringes.
The May blossoms blooms on it’s rugget old torn.
The garden gate creeps on it’s rusty old hinges,
as I entered the cottage in which I was born.

I knew that no friends in the doorway would meet me.
For the friends of my youth, to the church yard had gone.
But I almost expected my mother to greet me.
As I entered the cottage in which I was born.

I’ve roamed over many a beautiful mountain,
but to me all it’s grandeur, my heart was forlorn.
As the thirsty man dreams of a clear sparkling fountain,
so I dream of the cottage in which I was …. born!




Great-Grandmother Hawco

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