On your midnight pallet lying, Listen, and undo the door: Lads that waste the light in sighing In the dark should sigh no more; Night should ease a lover's sorrow; Therefore, since I go to-morrow, Pity me before. In the land to which I travel, The far dwelling, let me say Once, if here the couch is gravel, In a kinder bed I lay, And the breast the darnel smothers Rested once upon another's When it was not clay. | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...I WOULD LIVE IN YOUR LOVE by SARA TEASDALE LINCOLN by PAUL LAURENCE DUNBAR FLOWERS WITHOUT FRUIT by JOHN HENRY NEWMAN THE FIGHT OF THE ARMSTRONG PRIVATEER by JAMES JEFFREY ROCHE SPRING IN WAR TIME by SARA TEASDALE AT LORD'S [CRICKET GROUND] by FRANCIS THOMPSON |