My prison has its pleasures. Every day At breakfast-time, spare meal of milk and bread, Sparrows come trooping in familiar way With head aside beseeching to be fed. A spider too for me has spun her thread Across the prison rules, and a brave mouse Watches in sympathy the warders' tread, These two my fellow-prisoners in the house. But about dusk in the rooms opposite I see lamps lighted, and upon the blind A shadow passes all the evening through. It is the gaoler's daughter fair and kind And full of pity (so I image it) Till the stars rise, and night begins anew. | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...EPITAPH ON THE MONUMENT OF SIR WILLIAM DYER by KATHERINE DYER BINSEY POPLARS (FELLED 1879) by GERARD MANLEY HOPKINS SONNET ON SITTING DOWN TO READ KING LEAR ONCE AGAIN by JOHN KEATS LATE LEAVES by WALTER SAVAGE LANDOR SONNET: DANTE (1) by MICHELANGELO BUONARROTI THE HERO OF VIMY; AN INCIDENT OF THE GREAT WAR by BRENT DOW ALLINSON THE OLD FLUTE by AUGUSTE ANGELLIER THE LORD OF THOULOUSE; A LEGEND OF LANGUEDOC by RICHARD HARRIS BARHAM |