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A poem by James Whitcomb Riley |
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A Away |
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Title: A Away Author: James Whitcomb Riley [More Titles by Riley] I cannot say, and I will not say With a cheery smile, and a wave of the hand And left us dreaming how very fair And you-- O you, who the wildest yearn Think of him faring on, as dear And loyal still, as he gave the blows Mild and gentle, as he was brave--, To simple things--: Where the violets grew The touches of his hands have strayed When the little brown thrush that harshly chirred And he pitied as much as a man in pain Think of him still as the same, I say: [The end] GO TO TOP OF SCREEN |