By Ruth Margaret
Muskrat
The
racklety shacklety house by the ferry,
The
house where the winter winds blow;
Where
the fire on the hearth crackles merry
And the children dash through the snow.
Oh
I would go back to the house by the ferry
Back over the years of pain,
Oh
I would go back to the house by the ferry
And be a child again.
The
racklety shacklety house by the ferry
That once was so sturdy and new,
Where
the goblin bold and the elfin fairy
Lived in dreams that a wee child knew.
But
the years that have come to the house by the ferry
Have changed all the rainbow gleams,
Oh
the years that have come to the house by the ferry
Have stolen my roseate dreams.