"The Father of his country dwelt."

Those verses give us a charming glimpse of the home-life in the historic
mansion which is now so rich with poetic, as well as patriotic
associations.

How beautiful it was to be let in to that twilight library scene
described in the "Children's Hour":

"A sudden rush from the stair-way,
A sudden raid from the hall!
By three doors left unguarded,
They enter my castle wall!

"They climb up into my turret,
O'er the arms and back of my chair;
If I try to escape, they surround me;
They seem to be everywhere."

Afterward, when sorrow and loss had come to the happy home, in the
sudden removal of the mother of those merry children, the father who
loved them so had a sadder song for them, as he looked onward into their
orphaned lives:

"O little feet, that such long years
Must wander on, through hopes and fears,
Must ache and bleed beneath your load,
I, nearer to the wayside inn,
Where toil shall cease, and rest begin,
Am weary, thinking of your road!"