We sat, two children, warm against the wall Outside the towering stronghold of our fathers That frowned its stern security down upon us. We could not enter there. That fortress life, Our safe protection, was too gross and strong For our unpractised palates. Yet our guardians Cherished our innocence with gentle hands, (They, who had long since lost their innocence,) And in grave play put on a childish mask Over their tell-tale faces, as in shame For the fine food that plumped their lusty bodies And made them strange as gods. We sat that day With that great parapet behind us, safe As every day, yet outcast, safe and outcast As castaways thrown upon an empty shore. Before us lay our well-worn scene, a hillock So small and smooth and green, it seemed intended For us alone and childhood, a still pond That opened upon no sight a quiet eye, A little stream that tinkled down the slope. But suddenly all seemed old And dull and shrunken, shut within itself In a sullen dream. We were outside, alone. And then behind us the huge gate swung open | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...TO HIS WATCH, WHEN HE COULD NOT SLEEP by EDWARD HERBERT WINTER WITH THE GULF STREAM by GERARD MANLEY HOPKINS TO RICH GIVERS by WALT WHITMAN IN AND OUT OF CHURCH by LOUISA SARAH BEVINGTON CHERRY-BUDS by GAMALIEL BRADFORD |