He shakes the dust from off his feet And shambles down the dirty street - The last man in the town, they said, Who'd shot a hundred Yankees dead. At every door he looks inside Where pansies bloom and violets hide; Some little boys offer him a cheer, And only the town-dog seems to leer. What does he seek with watery eyes? A face or two, perhaps, or lies That tell him Genevieve is there, Behind the trellis, just as fair. I cannot say he walks in vain, Nor back of his leather-lips is pain - Only no bottle yields its cork And skyscrapers tower in far New York. | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...ANSWER TO A CHILD'S QUESTION by SAMUEL TAYLOR COLERIDGE THE MEDAL; A SATIRE AGAINST SEDITION by JOHN DRYDEN GREENWOOD CEMETERY by CRAMMOND KENNEDY TIME TO BE WISE by WALTER SAVAGE LANDOR WINTER RAIN by CHRISTINA GEORGINA ROSSETTI LEE TO THE REAR [MAY 12, 1864] by JOHN REUBEN THOMPSON |