ALONG the Woodford road there comes a noise Of wheels, and Mr. Rounding's neat postchaise Struggles along, drawn by a pair of bays, With Rev. Mr. Crow and six small Boys Who ever and anon declare their joys, With trumping horns and juvenile huzzas, At going home to spend their Christmas days, And changing Learning's pains for Pleasure's toys. Six weeks elapse, and down the Woodford way, A heavy coach drags six more heavy souls, But no glad urchins shout, no trumpets bray; The carriage makes a halt, the gate-bell tolls, And little Boys walk in as dull and mum As six new scholars to the Deaf and Dumb. | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...ONE LIFE by PAUL LAURENCE DUNBAR A TIME TO TALK by ROBERT FROST UPON THE SAYING THAT MY VERSES WERE MADE BY ANOTHER by ANNE KILLIGREW IPHIGENEIA AND AGAMEMNON, FR. THE HELLENICS by WALTER SAVAGE LANDOR ENDYMION by HENRY WADSWORTH LONGFELLOW MILTONIC by MAVIS CLARE BARNETT |