'Twas the half-year's last day, a festal one; Light tasks and feast and sport, hoop, cricket, kite, Employed us fully, till the summer-night Stole o'er the roofs of happy Alderton. Homer indoors, and field-games out of school, Made medley of my dreams; for, when I slept, The quaintest vision o'er my fancy swept, That ever served the lordship of misrule: Our hoops through gods and heroes ran a-muck; Our kites o'erhung the fleet, a public gaze! And one wild ball the great Achilles struck - Oh! how he towered and lightened at the stroke! But, tho' his formal pardon I bespoke, I told him plainly 'twas our holidays. | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...NOT BY THE SEA by SARA TEASDALE ENCHANTED MACHINES by BERTON BRALEY |