How many years since I, a wandering man, Sat at a forest fire, for warmth and light! With but one mate, a bird unseen, and strange That kept on crying, all the livelong night – 'Aye! ... Aye! ... Aye!' Though times are changed, and different fires are mine, Yet if that strange, wild bird could but restore The youth I lost when in his forest glade – Would I not come again in rags, and poor? 'Aye ... Aye ... Aye.' | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...ECCLESIASTICAL SONNETS: PART 1: 16. PERSUASION by WILLIAM WORDSWORTH ANOTHER REAPER by WILLIAM H. ARMSTRONG III LINES; TO ONE WHO WISHED TO READ A POEM I HAD WRITTEN by ANNE CHARLOTTE LYNCH BOTTA HELL AND HATE by ROBERT SEYMOUR BRIDGES COMING (APRIL, 1861) by HENRY HOWARD BROWNELL SONNETS FROM THE PORTUGUESE: 16 by ELIZABETH BARRETT BROWNING HYMN OF THE WALDENSES by WILLIAM CULLEN BRYANT |