Sach!

* * * * *

Do bin ich gange in die Schul,
Wo ich noch war gans klee';
Dort war der Meeschter in seim Schtuhl,
Dort war sei' Wip, un dort sei' Ruhl,--
Ich kann's noch Alles sch'.

Die lange Desks rings an der Wand--
Die grose Schieler drum;
Uf eener Seit die grose Mad,
Un dort die Buwe net so bleed--
Guk, wie sie piepe rum!

* * * * *

Oh horcht, ihr Leit, wu nooch mir lebt,
Ich schreib eich noch des Schtick:
Ich warn eich, droll eich, gebt doch Acht,
Un memmt uf immer gut enacht,
Des Schulhaus an der Krick!

[Footnote A: From "Harbaugh's Harfe." Published by the Publication and
Sunday School Board of the Reformed Church, Philadelphia, Pa. Used by
permission.]

THE OLD SCHOOL-HOUSE AT THE CREEK.

Today it is just twenty years,
Since I began to roam;
Now, safely back, I stand once more,
Before the quaint old school-house door,
Close by my father's home.

I've been in many houses since,
Of marble built, and brick;
Though grander far, their aim they miss,
To lure heart's old love from this
Old school-house at the creek.

* * * * *

The white-oak stands before the door,
And shades the roof at noon;
The grape-vine, too, is fresh and green;
The robin's nest!--Ah, hark!--I ween
That is the same old tune!

* * * * *

'Twas here I first attended school,
When I was very small;
There was the Master on his stool,
There was his whip and there his rule--
I seem to see it all.

The long desks ranged along the walls,
With books and inkstands crowned;
Here on this side the large girls sat,
And there the tricky boys on that--
See! how they peep around!

* * * * *

Ye, who shall live when I am dead--
Write down my wishes quick--
Protect it, love it, let it stand,
A way-mark in this changing land--
That school-house at the creek.

HEEMWEH.

Ich wees net was die Ursach is--
Wees net, warum ich's dhu:
'N jedes Johr mach ich der Weg
Der alte Heemet zu;
Hab weiter nix zu suche dort--
Kee' Erbschaft un kee' Geld;
Un doch treibt mich des Heemgefiehl
So schtark wie alle W