AS Tommy and his sister Jane Were walking down a shady lane, They saw some berries, bright and red, That hung around and over head; And soon the bough they bended down, To make the scarlet fruit their own; And part they ate, and part, in play, They threw about, and flung away. But long they had not been at home Before poor Jane and little Tom Were taken sick, and ill, to bed, And since, I've heard, they both are dead. Alas! had Tommy understood That fruit in lanes is seldom good, He might have walked with little Jane Again along the shady lane. | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...CONTRA MORTEM: THE SUMMER by HAYDEN CARRUTH MARIA CALLAS, THE WOMAN BEHIND THE LEGEND* by MADELINE DEFREES DRIVING INTO LARAMIE by JAMES GALVIN RECOMPENSE by GEORGIA DOUGLAS JOHNSON RETROSPECTION by GEORGIA DOUGLAS JOHNSON SYMPHONIC STUDIES (AFTER ROBERT SCHUMANN) by EMMA LAZARUS AT THE ZOO IN SPAIN by CLARENCE MAJOR |