They say I own the cottage on the hill. But it ain't so. The cottage owns @3me@1, though, That's how it really is. It ain't @3my@1 will To just keep staying on, year after year. I've often thought I'd get away from here. Just half way up -- guess you can see it now -- Faded and brown, It kind of snuggles down. The trees bend over it, you notice how? Protecting-like, and whispering so low It's quieter than anything I know. My married sister wrote and sent for me. And I did try -- She couldn't figure why I never came. Queer, how a house can be -- The house they say I @3own@1, up on the hill -- So little and so @3stubborn@1 and so still. | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...THE CRY OF THE HUMAN by ELIZABETH BARRETT BROWNING FRINGED GENTIAN by EMILY DICKINSON PSALM 93 by OLD TESTAMENT BIBLE NATALIA'S RESURRECTION: 23 by WILFRID SCAWEN BLUNT SLEEPING AND WATCHING by ELIZABETH BARRETT BROWNING TO GAVIN HAMILTON, RECOMMENDING A BOY by ROBERT BURNS |