FROM their folded mates they wander far, Their ways seem harsh and wild: They follow the beck of a baleful star, Their paths are dream-beguiled. Yet haply they sought but a wider range, Some loftier mountain slope, And little recked of the country strange Beyond the gates of hope. And haply a bell with a luring call Summoned their feet to tread Midst the cruel rocks, where the deep pitfall And the lurking snare are spread. Maybe, in spite of their tameless days Of outcast liberty, They 're sick at heart for the homely ways Where their gathered brothers be. And oft at night, when the plains fall dark And the hills loom large and dim, For the shepherd's voice they mutely hark, And their souls go out to him. Meanwhile, "Black sheep! black sheep!" we cry, Safe in the inner fold; And maybe they hear, and wonder why, And marvel, out in the cold. | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...A BALLAD OF ATHLONE; OR, HOW THEY BROKE DOWN THE BRIDGE by AUBREY THOMAS DE VERE THE LAST WILL AND TESTAMENT OF THE OLD GREY MARE by MOTHER GOOSE EN TOUR; A SONG SEQUENCE: 4. FOR FRANCES ANN by ALBERTA BANCROFT AT HAWTHORNE'S GRAVE by CHARLOTTE FISKE BATES TWO VOICES by EDMUND CHARLES BLUNDEN HINC LACHRIMAE; OR THE AUTHOR TO AURORA: 27 by WILLIAM BOSWORTH THE ENDLESS BATTLE by BERTON BRALEY |