Poetry Explorer- Classic Contemporary Poetry, CRICKET ON THE HEARTH, by PIERRE JEAN DE BERANGER



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CRICKET ON THE HEARTH, by            
First Line: In the evening, I sit near my poker and tongs
Last Line: My friend the cricket and I.
Subject(s): Crickets


In the evening, I sit near my poker and tongs,
And I dream in the firelight's glow,
And sometimes I quaver forgotten old songs
That I listened to long ago.
Then out of the cinders there cometh a chirp
Like an echoing, answering cry,—
Little we care for the outside world,
My friend the cricket and I.

For my cricket has learnt, I am sure of it quite,
That this earth is a silly, strange place,
And perhaps he's been beaten and hurt in the fight,
And perhaps he's been passed in the race.
But I know he has found it far better to sing
Than to talk of ill luck and to sigh,—
Little we care for the outside world,
My friend the cricket and I.

Perhaps he has loved, and perhaps he has lost,
And perhaps he is weary and weak,
And tired of life's torrent, so turbid and tost,
And disposed to be mournful and meek.
yet still I believe that he thinks it is best
To sing, and let troubles float by,—
My we care for the outside world,
My friend the cricket and I.





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