AS up and down the world I go, All ancient do the places show; The gardens full of honey bees, The roofs, the high and windy trees. April begins. The half-grown pear, Out in the lane buds white and fair; Long since -- for I can see it plain -- It blossomed in just such a lane. This tender light upon the glass, Long since I saw across the grass, Perhaps in Rouen, perhaps in Rome; Where'er -- I know that it was home. | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...DEMOS by EDWIN ARLINGTON ROBINSON DESPAIR AND FEAR by EMILY DICKINSON WHEN MALINDY SINGS by PAUL LAURENCE DUNBAR AFTER APPLE PICKING by ROBERT FROST THE CELLO by RICHARD WATSON GILDER OBERON'S FEAST by ROBERT HERRICK |