My chick, my pretty one, My little quail, my son: When we had to part I left with him my heart. I yearned so lovingly For him, and he for me: Bitter tears we shed When our farewells were said. Love must aweary grow Of running to and fro From thy heart to mine, And from my heart to thine. | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...OCTAVES: 2 by EDWIN ARLINGTON ROBINSON LAVENDER'S BLUE (1) by MOTHER GOOSE IN MEMORIAM A.H.H.: 5 by ALFRED TENNYSON THE GLORIOUS TOUCHDOWN by GEORGE ADE MESSAGES by HARRY RANDOLPH BLYTHE FORT GRISWOLD, SEPT. 6, 1781 by JOHN GARDINER CALKINS BRAINARD THE WANDERER: 3. IN ENGLAND: THE DEATH OF KING HACON by EDWARD ROBERT BULWER-LYTTON STANZAS COMPOSED DURING A THUNDERSTORM by GEORGE GORDON BYRON |