Ode to Cumberland Hill School

Lest we forget the one room school

Wherein was taught the Golden Rule,

in the following lines l’ll attempt the truth

Hail Cumberland Hill! the school of my youth.

The school no longer stands upon the hilltop Surrounded by forest, what a scene!

Where the children came to learn the fundamentals And romp and play each day upon the green. Though it’s walls and floors were not of fancy tiling Where single desks were classed a luxury

And in place of modern steam or hot air hearing

The wood fire blazed and crackled merrily.

Within its rugged walls were taught real lessons Society bears the proof of this today.

On a stage with modest curtains made of bedsheets Was enacted many a colorful Christmas play.

We did not know such things as strikes and boycotts Walk outs, sit ins and all this modern slang

But we clearly understood respect and honour

The moment that old rustic school bell rang.

The water pail sat in a special corner

Where all could reach and dip that favorite cup. Though dust and germs were likely never lacking One loved to run and have another sup.

The outhouse offered very little comfort

With frosty snowflakes drifting through the cracks. There was no such thing as “Saniflush” or “delsey” A place where sanitation was quite lax.

Just to hear those children’s voices on the playground Where gaping pole barns is the scene today

And those stately trees where once we hid our faces Will never more be there to swing and sway

They say those days are past and gone forever

And larger schools and buses there must be,

But that little country schoolhouse by the roadside Will always bring fond memories to me.

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