When voices of children are heard on the green, And whisperings are in the dale, The days of my youth rise fresh in my mind, My face turns green and pale. Then come home, my children, the sun is gone down, And the dews of night arise; Your spring and your day are wasted in play, And your winter and night in disguise. | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...A PRAYER, LIVING AND DYING by AUGUSTUS MONTAGUE TOPLADY TO THE VERS LIBRIST WHO USES ONLY THE MINOR KEY by FRANKLIN PIERCE ADAMS AN ARAB WELCOME by THOMAS BAILEY ALDRICH THE QUEEN'S RIDE; AN INVITATION by THOMAS BAILEY ALDRICH THE FROGS: THE FROGS' SONG by ARISTOPHANES LULLABY IN BETHLEHEM by HENRY HOWARTH BASHFORD |