OH! the dreamy days of youth, In appearance how uncouth, As we waded through the frog ponds and The ditches. With big patches on each knee, And where they hadn't ought to be. Oh! the days when one suspender Held our breeches. Oh! the dreamy days of yore, And the slippery cellar door. Oh! that cherry tree whose fruit we oft Were testing. Then we'd wait till after tea, When we'd sing with doleful glee. Oh! how often mother made it Interesting. | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...THE VALLEY OF UNREST (2) by EDGAR ALLAN POE DEEDS OF VALOR AT SANTIAGO by CLINTON SCOLLARD THE PRINCESS; A MEDLEY by ALFRED TENNYSON CHINA 1937 by LAURA FRANCES ALEXANDER THE RUINED PALACE by EDWARD ROBERT BULWER-LYTTON EPITAPH FOR JOSEPH BLACKETT, LATE POET AND SHOEMAKER by GEORGE GORDON BYRON |