Old Tillie Turveycombe Sat to sew, Just where a patch of fern did grow; There, as she yawned, And yawn wide did she, Floated some seed Down her gull-e-t; And look you once, And look you twice, Poor old Tillie Was gone in a trice. But oh, when the wind Do a-moaning come, 'Tis poor old Tillie Sick for home; And oh, when a voice In the mist do sigh, Old Tillie Turveycombe's Floating by. | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...TO ABRAHAM LINCOLN by GEORGIA DOUGLAS JOHNSON DEAR OLD DICK by EDGAR LEE MASTERS TIRED TIM by WALTER JOHN DE LA MARE WHEN DEY 'LISTED COLORED SOLDIERS by PAUL LAURENCE DUNBAR PRELUDES: 1-4 (COMPLETE) by THOMAS STEARNS ELIOT MODERN LOVE: 50 by GEORGE MEREDITH |