RUSHES that grow by the black water When will I see you more? When will the sorrowful heart forget you, Land of the green, green shore? When will the field and the small cabin See us more In the old country? What is to me all the gold yonder? She that bore me is gone. Knees that dandled and hands that blessed me Colder than any stone. Stranger to me than the face of strangers Are my own In the old country! Vein o' my heart, from the lone mountain The smoke of the turf will die, And the stream that sang to the young childer Run down alone from the sky: On the door-stone, grass, -- and the cloud lying Where they lie In the old country! | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...SANTA FE SKETCHES by CARL SANDBURG THE PRIESTHOOD by GEORGE HERBERT INVERSNAID by GERARD MANLEY HOPKINS TO JANE: KEEN STARS by PERCY BYSSHE SHELLEY PEARLS OF THE FAITH: 53. ALLAH-AL-WAKIL by EDWIN ARNOLD PEARLS OF THE FAITH: 80, 81. GHAFOOR, MUNTAKIM by EDWIN ARNOLD CLIO, NINE ECLOGUES IN HONOUR OF NINE VIRTUES: TO THE READER by WILLIAM BASSE |