'I'm tired -- oh, tired of books,' said Jack, 'I long for meadows green, And woods where shadowy violets Nod their cool leaves between; I long to see the ploughman stride His darkening acres o'er, To hear the hoarse sea-waters drive Their billows 'gainst the shore; I long to watch the sea-mew wheel Back to her rock-perched mate; Or, where the breathing cows are housed, Lean, dreaming, at the gate. Something has gone, and ink and print Will never bring it back; I long for the green fields again, I'm tired of books,' said Jack. | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...TO MY HONORED FRIEND SIR ROBERT HOWARD by JOHN DRYDEN INSCRIPTIONS: 8 by MARK AKENSIDE THE CRESCENT AND THE CROSS by THOMAS BAILEY ALDRICH BOTHWELL: PART 1 by WILLIAM EDMONSTOUNE AYTOUN MY DEMAND by MARION L. BERTRAND TO A YOUNG FRIEND LEARNING TO PLAY THE FLUTE by JOHN GARDINER CALKINS BRAINARD |