Sometimes when traveling a dusty road The faces of tired wanderers are lighted With hope and gladness -- not so far away They see a city, their footsteps benighted They hasten, thinking to have reached at last Their long sought destination. As nearer they approach they see no city -- It was but some weird vision conjured there By homesick hearts that, wearied by long absence, Put there to solace minds wracked by despair. They plod so slowly on, and, looking back, Again they see -- their home. | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...THE GLOVE AND THE LIONS by JAMES HENRY LEIGH HUNT VENICE by JOHN ADDINGTON SYMONDS FOR THERE IS NO HELP IN THEM by EDMUND CHARLES BLUNDEN HINC LACHRIMAE; OR THE AUTHOR TO AURORA: 18 by WILLIAM BOSWORTH PIONEER WOMAN by ELIZABETH DE MARY DE PAPINEAU GUN - AN INCIDENT OF THE CANADIAN REBELLION,1837 by WILLIAM HENRY DRUMMOND |