Oh Maureen Oge across the foam, If you were at these hedges here, You would not know that you were home, So quaint is everything and queer. Each primrose opens with the day To wonder why it has unfurled, And since you wandered far away The winds have searched the open world. The cuckoo calls you home again; The daisies droop in pale distress; And roses lean across the lane, Och! roses wild with loneliness. Oh Maureen Oge beyond the sea, I wait not only with the rose; For in the house where you should be The walls are lonesome for your clothes. | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...MARCO BOZZARIS by FITZ-GREENE HALLECK THE HOUSE OF LIFE: 53. WITHOUT HER by DANTE GABRIEL ROSSETTI THE BIRDS: THE WEDDING CHANT by ARISTOPHANES THE REPLY OF Q. HORATIUS FLACCUS TO A ROMAN 'ROUND-ROBIN' by ALFRED AUSTIN EMBLEMS OF LOVE: 36. GOLD THE PICKLOCK by PHILIP AYRES SUBH-I-KAZIB by LOUISA SARAH BEVINGTON |