They said that Jimmy was the handsomest lad In all the witchery of the country side, The good townspeople took unconcious pride In his kindly smile and way of being glad. The rest of the idyll is as old and sad As love's own sadness. A heroic ride, A shot, a lurch, and gallant Jimmy died. The papers said that the war news was bad. A little maid stood waiting at the gate When kind friends told her of her lover's story, Her deep eyes brimming with the sting of fate, And Jimmy's voice was more than Jimmy's glory. Sometimes at night, when all the world was stilled, She dimly understood that Jim was killed. | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...EPISTLE TO JAMES SMITH by ROBERT BURNS THE HILL WIFE: THE SMILE by ROBERT FROST THE MILKMAID by JEFFREYS TAYLOR A DREAM OF FAIR WOMEN by ALFRED TENNYSON SHRODON FEAR: THE REST O'T by WILLIAM BARNES |