My chick, my pretty one, My little quail, my son: When we had to part I left with him my heart. I yearned so lovingly For him, and he for me: Bitter tears we shed When our farewells were said. Love must aweary grow Of running to and fro From thy heart to mine, And from my heart to thine. | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...LONDON SNOW by ROBERT SEYMOUR BRIDGES HOME-THOUGHTS, FROM ABROAD by ROBERT BROWNING TIME, REAL AND IMAGINARY; AN ALLEGORY by SAMUEL TAYLOR COLERIDGE THE MOCKING-BIRD by FRANK LEBBY STANTON LA BEAUTE by CHARLES BAUDELAIRE THE HOUSE AT EVENING by WILLIAM ROSE BENET |