Pack up the house, and close the creaking door. The fields are dull this morning in the rain. It's difficult to leave that homely floor. Wave a light hand; we will return again. (What was that bird?) Good-bye, ecstatic tree, Floating, bursting, and breathing on the air. The lonely farm is wondering that we Can leave. How every window seems to stare! That bag is heavy. Share it for a bit. You like that gentle swashing of the ground As we tread? ... It is over. Now we sit Reading the morning paper in the sound Of the debilitating heavy train. London again, again. London again. | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...GENERAL WILLIAM BOOTH ENTERS INTO HEAVEN by NICHOLAS VACHEL LINDSAY AMORETTI: 30 by EDMUND SPENSER WHITE FOR MOURNING by AL-FATA AL-KAFIF EMBLEMS OF LOVE: 15. RATHER DEEDS THAN WORDS by PHILIP AYRES |