I DARESAY if I were to tell, What I do miss or here or there, In this old town I love so well -- What shrill of laughter down the air! Each door was wide and painted white; And every day its plate of brass, A small maid-servant polished bright, Until it shone like any glass. Each Covenanter name stood plain, A mellow mouthful, yet pricked through With fighting yesters, heard again Like clash of spears across the dew. A hundred things and more are gone In this old town where'er I pass; But most of all, from dawn to dawn, I miss the little plates of brass! | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...ONE WAY OF LOVE by ROBERT BROWNING CAPTAIN CARPENTER by JOHN CROWE RANSOM IKE WALTON'S PRAYER by JAMES WHITCOMB RILEY OF MAN'S MORTALITY by SIMON WASTELL LACHRYMAE MUSARUM (THE DEATH OF TENNYSON) by WILLIAM WATSON LITTLE BELL by THOMAS WESTWOOD |