O my heart is longing, longing For my children far away, And the wind is sighing, sighing, 'Tis a bleak November day. Leaves are falling on the grass Whispering hope for those long gone, While my heart is calling, calling, Come, my children, come, come home. | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...WOO NOT THE WORLD by MUHAMMAD AL-MU'TAMID II WORLDLY PLACE by MATTHEW ARNOLD PET'S PUNISHMENT by JOSEPH ASHBY-STERRY THE SECOND BROTHER; ACT 1, SCENE 1 by THOMAS LOVELL BEDDOES THE WANDERER: 5. IN HOLLAND: SMALL PEOPLE by EDWARD ROBERT BULWER-LYTTON DAWN by MAXWELL STRUTHERS BURT |