Silent companions of the lonely hour, Friends, who can never alter or forsake, Who for inconstant roving have no power, And all neglect, perforce, must calmly take, -- Let me return to you; this turmoil ending Which worldly cares have in my spirit wrought, And, o'er your old familiar pages bending, Refresh my mind with many a tranquil thought: Till, haply meeting there, from time to time, Fancies, the audible echo of my own, 'Twill be like hearing in a foreign clime My native language spoke in friendly tone, And with a sort of welcome I shall dwell On these, my unripe musings, told so well. | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...I AM BORNE ONWARD by SARA TEASDALE THE BROKEN PITCHER by WILLIAM EDMONSTOUNE AYTOUN A SUMMER EVENING'S MEDITATION by ANNA LETITIA BARBAULD THE LAND OF DREAMS by WILLIAM BLAKE THE LATEST DECALOGUE by ARTHUR HUGH CLOUGH MARTHY VIRGINIA'S HAND [SEPTEMBER 17, 1862] by GEORGE PARSONS LATHROP STEVENSON'S BIRTHDAY by KATHERINE WISE MILLER MARY'S GIRLHOOD (FOR A PICTURE): 1 by DANTE GABRIEL ROSSETTI |