I hear the sound of pattering feet, I hear the prattling accents sweet; And so I turn again to greet The little boy across the street. I see the faltering little feet, I see the hand stretched out to meet The arms I offer, to entreat The little boy across the street. Ah! somehow in this still retreat With all the season's joys replete, Life surely could not be complete Without this boy across the street. | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...MOUNTAIN WATER by SARA TEASDALE THE GARDEN by EDWIN ARLINGTON ROBINSON TO A FRIEND by ANNA LETITIA BARBAULD SONG OF THE STARS by WILLIAM CULLEN BRYANT OBSERVATIONS IN THE ART OF ENGLISH POESY: 2 by THOMAS CAMPION |