Wit and Humor of America, The Vol 06

<h2>LOST CHORDS</h2> <h3>BY EUGENE FIELD</h3> <div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> <span class="i0">One autumn eve, when soft the breeze<br/></span> <span class="i2">Came sweeping through the lattice wide,<br/></span> <span class="i2">I sat me down at organ side<br/></span> <span class="i0">And poured my soul upon the keys.<br/></span></div> <div class="stanza"> <span class="i0">It was, perhaps by heaven's design,<br/></span> <span class="i2">That from my half unconscious touch,<br/></span> <span class="i2">There swept a passing chord of such<br/></span> <span class="i0">Sweet harmony, it seemed divine.<br/></span></div> <div class="stanza"> <span class="i0">In one soft tone it seemed to say<br/></span> <span class="i2">The sweetest words I ever heard,<br/></span> <span class="i2">Then like a truant forest bird,<br/></span> <span class="i0">It soared from me to heaven away.<br/></span></div> <div class="stanza"> <span class="i0">Last eve, I sat at window whence<br/></span> <span class="i2">I sought the spot where erst had stood<br/></span> <span class="i2">A cord&mdash;a cord of hick'ry wood,<br/></span> <span class="i0">Piled up against the back yard fence.<br/></span></div> <div class="stanza"> <span class="i0">Four dollars cost me it that day,<br/></span> <span class="i2">Four dollars earned by sweat of brow,<br/></span> <span class="i2">Where was the cord of hick'ry now?<br/></span> <span class="i0">The thieves had gobbled it away!<br/></span></div> <div class="stanza"> <span class="i0">Ah! who can ever count the cost,<br/></span> <span class="i2">Of treasures which were once our own,<br/></span> <span class="i2">Yet now, like childhood dreams are flown,<br/></span> <span class="i0">Those cords that are forever lost.<br/></span> <span class='pagenum'><SPAN name="Page_1081" id="Page_1081"></SPAN></span></div> </div> <hr style="width: 65%;" /> <div style="break-after:column;"></div><br />