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Show . Tlia Old Fire 1'lace. George Horlon. You may talk about your ruaruco fires 'lliat warm your city homes. And toll me how the heat aspires, ' And through the building roams; ,Tls handy. I ll admit, to push A little iron wheel. And let the ghost of summer out About the room to steal. But oh, I'd love to see once more My father's big Hrr place; To hear tho old logs sing and roar. . And watch the dodging sparks outpour, .,' Aud up the chlmuey chase! Your modern pl ate's nice allalr; -When full of anthracite, It lends the room a pleasant air. On any winter's night. ' The glowing coal's a flower bed Illies and crimson pinks, And 'mong them many an olflu eye ' lVeps through, and winks aud blinks. Hut oh, 1 long to see once more My father's old fireplace; To watch the shadows flicker o'er. My mother's whtlley sanded floor,. And round the felling race ! These patent parlor stoves are tine, Aud charm away the chill With windows whence the light may shine , Tho room with cheer to fill. Home people love to boast alxmt Our stylish modern ways, And thank the Lord who cast their lines In these progressive days. Hut oh, that I might be once more Beside tho old fireplace ! To seo the fleet-w Inged liames upsoar ' And watch the Hashos on tho floor, Knt wine and Interlace. Hearty and Joyial tires were those I loved so when a boy. Tbey tinted darkness like the rose And warmed the heart with Joy. They chuckled, in au undertone, They crackled, whistled laughed. Thoy burned so bright, the cares ol life Flow upward In the draught! ' And oh, I'd lovo to be once more Beside the old fireplace; To drowse upon the sanded floor " And find my mother bending o'er , With love-light on her face ! |