THERE are lads who count the days To the glad vacation time, And their hearts go truanting; Though they walk appointed ways Duteously, the home-bells chime In their ears, the home-birds sing, And they hear their cronies call To some game or festival. I could wish that death might come Like the respite to a task, Or a holiday hard-won. Life's long schooling burdensome Over now, so we may bask In a sense of duty done; In a sense of freedom wide Opening out on every side. | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...DUSK IN WAR TIME by SARA TEASDALE COUNTESS LAURA by GEORGE HENRY BOKER PATIENCE by PAUL HAMILTON HAYNE SONNETS TO LAURA IN LIFE: 156 by PETRARCH SONNET: 102 by WILLIAM SHAKESPEARE FOR THE INAUGURATION OF A PUBLIC SCHOOL, CAMDEN, NEW JERSEY by WALT WHITMAN |