Our mother bade us keep the trodden ways, Stroked down my tippet, set my brother's frill, Then with the benediction of her gaze, Clung to us lessening and pursued us still Across the homestead to the rookery elms Whose tall old trunks had each a grassy mound, So rich for us we counted them as realms With varied products; here were earth nuts found And here the Lady-fingers in deep shade, Here sloping toward the moat the rushes grew, The large to split for pith, the small to braid While over all the dark rooks cawing flew -- And made a happy strange solemnity A deep-toned chant from life unknown to me. | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...RAIN IN SUMMER by HENRY WADSWORTH LONGFELLOW CLANCY OF THE MOUNTED POLICE by ROBERT WILLIAM SERVICE LEGEND by JOHN VAN ALSTYN WEAVER AFTER LONG SILENCE by WILLIAM BUTLER YEATS SONNET: TO A CRITIC by LOUISA SARAH BEVINGTON ENGLAND'S PRAYER by WILLIAM BLUNDELL |