Toll no bell for me, dear Father dear Mother, Toll no bell for me, dear Father, dear Mother, Waste no sighs; Waste no sighs; There are my sisters, there is my little brother There are my sisters, there is my little brother Who plays in the place called Paradise, Who plays in the place called Paradise, Your children all, your children for ever; Your children all, your children for ever; But I, so wild, But I, so wild, Your disgrace, with the queer brown face, was never, Your disgrace, with the queer brown face, was never, Never, I know, but half your child! Never, I know, but half your child! In the garden at play, all day, last summer, Far and away I heard In the garden at play, all day, last summer, The sweet "tweet-tweet" of a strange new-comer, Far and away I heard The dearest, clearest call of a bird. The sweet "tweet-tweet" of a strange new-comer, It lived down there in the deep green hollow, The dearest, clearest call of a bird. My own old home, and the fairies say It lived down there in the deep green hollow, The word of a bird is a thing to follow, My own old home, and the fairies say So I was away a night and a day. The word of a bird is a thing to follow, One evening, too, by the nursery fire, So I was away a night and a day. We snuggled close and sat round so still, When suddenly as the wind blew higher, Something scratched on the window-sill, One evening, too, by the nursery fire, A pinched brown face peered in-I shivered; We snuggled close and sat round so still, No one listened or seemed to see; When suddenly as the wind blew higher, The arms of it waved and the wings of it quivered, Something scratched on the window-sill, Whoo-I knew it had come for me! A pinched brown face peered in--I shivered; Some are as bad as bad can be! No one listened or seemed to see; All night long they danced in the rain, The arms of it waved and the wings of it quivered, Round and round in a dripping chain, Whoo--I knew it had come for me! Threw their caps at the window-pane, Some are as bad as bad can be! Tried to make me scream and shout All night long they danced in the rain, And fling the bedclothes all about: Round and round in a dripping chain, I meant to stay in bed that night, Threw their caps at the window-pane, And if only you had left a light Tried to make me scream and shout They would never have got me out! And fling the bedclothes all about: Sometimes I wouldn't speak, you see, I meant to stay in bed that night, Or answer when you spoke to me, And if only you had left a light Because in the long, still dusks of Spring They would never have got me out! You can hear the whole world whispering; The shy green grasses making love, The feathers grow on the dear grey dove, Sometimes I wouldn't speak, you see, The tiny heart of the redstart beat, Or answer when you spoke to me, The patter of the squirrel's feet, Because in the long, still dusks of Spring You can hear the whole world whispering; The shy green grasses making love, The pebbles pushing in the silver streams, The feathers grow on the dear grey dove, The rushes talking in their dreams, The tiny heart of the redstart beat, The swish-swish of the bat's black wings, The patter of the squirrel's feet, The wild-wood bluebell's sweet ting-tings, The pebbles pushing in the silver streams, Humming and hammering at your ear, The rushes talking in their dreams, Everything there is to hear The swish-swish of the bat's black wings, In the heart of hidden things. The wild-wood bluebell's sweet ting-tings, But not in the midst of the nursery riot, Humming and hammering at your ear, That's why I wanted to be quiet, Everything there is to hear Couldn't do my sums, or sing, In the heart of hidden things. Or settle down to anything. But not in the midst of the nursery riot, And when, for that, I was sent upstairs That's why I wanted to be quiet, I did kneel down to say my prayers; Couldn't do my sums, or sing, But the King who sits on your high church steeple Or settle down to anything. Has nothing to do with us fairy people! And when, for that, I was sent upstairs 'Times I pleased you, dear Father, dear Mother, I did kneel down to say my prayers; Learned all my lessons and liked to play, But the King who sits on your high church steeple And dearly I loved the little pale brother Has nothing to do with us fairy people! Whom some other bird must have called away. Why did they bring me here to make me Not quite bad and not quite good, 'Times I pleased you, dear Father, dear Mother, Why, unless They're wicked, do They want, in spite, to take me Learned all my lessons and liked to play, Back to Their wet, wild wood? And dearly I loved the little pale brother Now, every night I shall see the windows shining, Whom some other bird must have called away. The gold lamp's glow, and the fire's red gleam, Why did they bring me here to make me While the best of us are twining twigs and the rest of us are whining Not quite bad and not quite good, In the hollow by the stream. Why, unless They're wicked, do They want, in spite, Black and chill are Their nights on the wold; to take me And They live so long and They feel no pain: Back to Their wet, wild wood? I shall grow up, but never grow old, Now, every nithing I shall see the windows shining, I shall always, always be very cold, The gold lamp's glow, and the fire's red gleam, I shall never come back again! While the best of us are twining twigs and the rest of us are whining In the hollow by the stream. Black and chill are Their nights on the wold; And They live so long and They feel no pain: I shall grow up, but never grow old, I shall always, always be very cold, I shall never come back again! | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...THE ECHOING GREEN, FR. SONGS OF INNOCENCE by WILLIAM BLAKE THE ROAD NOT TAKEN by ROBERT FROST SONGS WITH PRELUDES: REGRET by JEAN INGELOW A WHITE ROSE by JOHN BOYLE O'REILLY THE DARK HILLS by EDWIN ARLINGTON ROBINSON TO A FRIEND WHOSE WORK HAS COME TO NOTHING by WILLIAM BUTLER YEATS |