O, thou art far away from me -- dear boy! So fond affection loves to call thee still; Recalling hours that oft my bosom thrill, When in our native haunts thou wert my joy. Where now in distant climates dost thou stray? When in the ardor of thy boyish pride, Thou wert a faithless truant from my side; Soon thou return'st to chase my fears away. How have I marked thee oft, with wonder there, Climb the tall elm, and prayed and prayed again Thou would'st such dangerous heights forbear, And gazed, with upraised eyes, that sued in vain: Gained the proud height -- prompt to descend and smile, And love the very tear thou chid'st the while. | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...THE LOST WAR-SLOOP by EDNA DEAN PROCTOR A TEAMSTER'S FAREWELL by CARL SANDBURG LAST AND WORST by FRANCES EKIN ALLISON THE VOYAGE; TO MAXIME DU CAMP by CHARLES BAUDELAIRE ON HIS WIFE, AN EPITAPH by WILLIAM BROWNE (1591-1643) RED COTTON NIGHT-CAP COUNTRY; OR, TURF AND TOWERS: PART 2 by ROBERT BROWNING MIDSUMMER DAY by JOHN DAVIDSON INITIAL, DAEMONIC, AND CELESTIAL LOVE: 3 by RALPH WALDO EMERSON |