Hence with your jeerings petulant and low; My love of home no circumstance can shake; Too ductile for the change of place to break, And far too passionate for thee to know; I and yon sycamore have grown together, How on yon slope the shifting sunsets lie, None know like me and mine; and, tending hither, Flows the strong current of my memory; From that same flower-bed, ever dear to me, I learnt how marigolds do bloom and fade; And from the grove, which skirts this garden-glade, I had my earliest thoughts of Love and Spring; Thou wott'st not how the heart of man is made; I learn from thee what change the world can bring. | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...FRAGMENT ON DEATH by FRANCOIS VILLON SING-SONG; A NURSERY RHYME BOOK: 123 by CHRISTINA GEORGINA ROSSETTI THE HOUSE OF LIFE: 19. SILENT NOON by DANTE GABRIEL ROSSETTI TO NIGHT by PERCY BYSSHE SHELLEY TO THE SMALL CELANDINE (1) by WILLIAM WORDSWORTH |