We leave the well-beloved place Where first we gazed upon the sky; The roofs that heard our earliest cry Will shelter one of stranger race. We go, but ere we go from home, As down the garden-walks I move, Two spirits of a diverse love Contend for loving masterdom. One whispers, 'Here thy boyhood sung Long since its matin song, and heard The low love-language of the bird In native hazels tassel-hung.' The other answers, 'Yea, but here Thy feet have stray'd in after hours With thy lost friend among the bowers, And this hath made them trebly dear.' These two have striven half the day, And each prefers his separate claim, Poor rivals in a losing game, That will not yield each other way. I turn to go; my feet are set To leave the pleasant fields and farms; They mix in one another's arms To one pure image of regret. | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...A MOTHER TO HER SICK CHILD by WILLIAM HENRY DAVIES THE LAMPLIGHTER by ROBERT LOUIS STEVENSON BLOOD ON THE WHEEL by ALEXANDER ANDERSON EPIGAEA ASLEEP by WILLIAM WHITMAN BAILEY PARTY CARD NO. 224332 by ALEXANDR ILYICH BEZYMENSKY THE FABRIC by GAMALIEL BRADFORD SONNET ON MOOR PARK; FORMERLY THE SEAT OF SIR WILLIAM TEMPLE by SAMUEL EGERTON BRYDGES |