WOULD that I were naked Adam, And you like Eve ran bare, Though all our friends and other folk Unborn, unthought-of, were! Should we miss house or street or town, Gossip, tea or cake, Might we but climb a breeze-rocked pine, Doze there or lie awake? Ah, nothing grieves that is itself: Say, are these millions men Who, boxed in slate-roofed rows, there sicken For sea, forest or glen? | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...THE SUBALTERNS by THOMAS HARDY HEALTHFUL OLD AGE, FR. AS YOU LIKE IT by WILLIAM SHAKESPEARE WOMAN'S BEAUTY by LASCELLES ABERCROMBIE THE FADED VIOLET by THOMAS BAILEY ALDRICH STANZAS TO AN AFFECTIONATE AND PIOUS PARENT, ON THE DEATH OF HER CHILD by BERNARD BARTON YELLOW WARBLERS by KATHARINE LEE BATES |