A couple av childer played out in a field, A blowin' wee clocks for the hours; They chased a white butterfly roun' the may-bloom; They gather'd the buttercup flow'rs!— But when they made a daisy-chain, My eyes wor mistin', tears, like rain: Och! years had dimmed thon patch av green!— 'Twas wee broke chains—pink chains I seen, As I tramped along the lane; Ay, an' trudged the lone boreen!— | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...OUT OF THE OLD HOUSE, NANCY by WILLIAM MCKENDREE CARLETON THE BRIDGE: 7. THE TUNNEL by HAROLD HART CRANE BEAUTY ROHTRAUT by EDUARD FRIEDRICH MORIKE TO A CHILD OF QUALITY, FIVE YEARS OLD. THE AUTHOR THAN FORTY by MATTHEW PRIOR THE BALLAD OF READING GAOL by OSCAR WILDE AN EXPOSTULATION WITH LOVE by PHILIP AYRES THE LAMENT: A BALLAD by ANNA LETITIA BARBAULD GREENES FUNERALLS: SONNET 2 by RICHARD BARNFIELD THE IMPROVISATORE: THE INDUCTION TO THE THIRD FYTTE by THOMAS LOVELL BEDDOES |