'TIS not my home -- he made it home With earnest love and care; How can it be my own dear home, And he no longer there? I asked to meet my father's eyes, But they were closed for me; My father, would that I were laid In the dark grave with thee. Where shall I look for constant love, To answer unto mine? Others have many kindred hearts, But I had only thine. | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...GOOD-BYE DOROTHY GAYLE: THE ROAD TO BUFFALO by KAREN SWENSON TOWERS OF SIMON RODIA; FOR HOWARD W. SWENSON 1903-1081 by KAREN SWENSON THE VIRGIN MARY TO THE CHILD JESUS by ELIZABETH BARRETT BROWNING BY THE RIVERS OF BABYLON WE SAT DOWN AND WEPT by GEORGE GORDON BYRON AN ODE TO THE RAIN by SAMUEL TAYLOR COLERIDGE EMBLEMS OF LOVE: 9. LOVE A TICKLISH GAME by PHILIP AYRES TO DR. AIKIN ON HIS COMPLAINING THAT SHE NEGLECTED HIM by ANNA LETITIA BARBAULD |