On four-horse coach, whose luggage pierced the sky, Perch'd on back seat, like clerk on office-stool, While wintry winds my dangling heels kept cool, In Whitney white envelop'd and blue tie, Unpillow'd slumber from my half-closed eye Scared by the shrill tin horn; when welcome Yule Brought holiday season, it was thus from school I homeward came some forty years gone by. Thus two long days and one long night I rode, Stage after stage, till the last change of team Stopp'd, splash'd and panting, at my fire's abode. How nowaday from school comes home my son? Through duct and tunnel by a puff of steam, Shot like a pellet from his own pop-gun. | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...HIGH PLAINS RAG by JAMES GALVIN RICHARD BOOTH TO HIS SON JUNIUS BRUTUS by EDGAR LEE MASTERS GOOD FRIDAY HYMN by GEORGE SANTAYANA JOHANNA PEDERSEN by KAREN SWENSON TELLING THE BEES (A COLONIAL CUSTOM) by LIZETTE WOODWORTH REESE THE GOAT PATHS by JAMES STEPHENS |