I'm sick of school an' sick of home An' so I've started out Acrost the western plains to roam An' be a noble scout. Home ain't a bit ad-vent-u-rus; You can't have any fun, An' my, there'd be a fearful fuss If I should get a gun. An' so I've packed my haversack As skillful as I can An' I ain't never comin' back Till I'm a famous man, Till I have slayed a Injun chief An' shot a grizzly bear, An' maybe chased a cattle thief An' ketched him in his lair. I guess I'm far away, all right, An' awful hungry, too, It's awful dark outside, to-night, I'm kinda scared, ain't you? I want my mama and my dad, It ain't no fun to roam, I'm just a tired little tad. Please, Mister, take me home! | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...LA RONDE DU DIABLE by AMY LOWELL THE ORIGIN OF DIDACTIC POETRY by JAMES RUSSELL LOWELL AN ESSAY ON MAN by ALEXANDER POPE THE CATARACT OF LODORE by ROBERT SOUTHEY THE POET: A RHAPSODY by MARK AKENSIDE |