I had a chair at every hearth, When no one turned to see, With "Look at that old fellow there, "And who may he be?" And therefore do I wander now, And the fret lies on me. The road-side trees keep murmuring Ah, wherefore murmur ye, As in the old days long gone by, Green oak and poplar tree? The well-known faces are all gone And the fret lies on me. | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...THE GREEN MOUNTAIN BOYS [MAY 9, 1775] by WILLIAM CULLEN BRYANT TO A MOUSE, ON TURNING HER UP IN HER NEST WITH THE PLOUGH by ROBERT BURNS A SPINSTER'S STINT by ALICE CARY THE COMING OF GOOD LUCK by ROBERT HERRICK SONNET: 30 by WILLIAM SHAKESPEARE HESPERIA by ALGERNON CHARLES SWINBURNE |