Long Ago, The

<SPAN name="startofbook"></SPAN> <h1> The Long Ago </h1> <h3> by Jacob William Wright </h3> <br/><br/> <p class="poem"> Then said he unto me,<br/> Go thy way,<br/> Weigh me the weight of the fire,<br/> Or measure me the blast of the wind,<br/> Or call me again the day that is past.<br/> II Esdras IV:5<br/></p> <br/><br/> <p>The day is done, and yet we linger here at the window of the private office, alone, in the early evening. Street sounds come surging up to us&mdash;the hoarse Voice of the City&mdash;a confused blur of noise&mdash;clanging trolley-cars, rumbling wagons, and familiar cries&mdash;all the varied commotion of the home-going hour when the city's buildings are pouring forth their human tide of laborers into the clogged arteries.</p> <p>We lean against the window-frame, looking across and beyond the myriad roofs, and listening. The world-weariness has touched our temples with gray, and the heaviness of the day's concerns and tumult presses in, presses in .... presses in ....</p> <p>Yet as we look into the gentle twilight, the throbbing street below slowly changes to a winding country road .... the tall buildings fade in the sunset glow until they become only huge elm-trees overtopping a dusty lane .... the trolley-bells are softened so that they are but the distant tinkle of the homeward herd on the hills .... and you and I in matchless freedom are once more trudging the Old Dear Road side by side, answering the call of the wondrous Voice of Boyhood sounding through the years.</p> <br/><br/><br/> <div style="break-after:column;"></div><br />