WHEN I behold how some pursue Fame, that is Care's embodiment Or fortune, whose false face looks true, -- An humble home with sweet content Is all I ask for me and you. An humble home, where pigeons coo, Whose path leads under breezy lines Of frosty-berried cedars to A gate, one mass of trumpet-vines, Is all I ask for me and you. A garden, which all summer through, The roses old make redolent, And morning-glories, gay of hue, And tansy, with its homely scent, Is all I ask for me and you. An orchard, that the pippins strew, From whose bruised gold the juices spring; A vineyard, where the grapes hang blue, Wine-big and ripe for vintaging, Is all I ask for me and you. A lane that leads to some far view Of forest or of fallow-land, Bloomed o'er with rose and meadow-rue, Each with a bee in its hot hand, Is all I ask for me and you. At morn, a pathway deep with dew, And birds to vary time and tune; At eve, a sunset avenue, And whippoorwills that haunt the moon, Is all I ask for me and you. Dear heart, with wants so small and few, And faith, that's better far than gold, A lowly friend, a child or two, To care for us when we are old, Is all I ask for me and you. | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...WHEN ON THE MARGE OF EVENING by LOUISE IMOGEN GUINEY WHEN FIRST MY WAY by ALFRED EDWARD HOUSMAN IN PROGRESS by CHRISTINA GEORGINA ROSSETTI THE DISAPPOINTED TENDERFOOT by EARL ALONZO BRININSTOOL |