Pack up the house, and close the creaking door. The fields are dull this morning in the rain. It's difficult to leave that homely floor. Wave a light hand; we will return again. (What was that bird?) Good-bye, ecstatic tree, Floating, bursting, and breathing on the air. The lonely farm is wondering that we Can leave. How every window seems to stare! That bag is heavy. Share it for a bit. You like that gentle swashing of the ground As we tread? ... It is over. Now we sit Reading the morning paper in the sound Of the debilitating heavy train. London again, again. London again. | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...NAPOLEON AND THE BRITISH [OR ENGLISH] SAILOR [BOY] by THOMAS CAMPBELL TO MARY UNWIN by WILLIAM COWPER A TERNARIE OF LITTLES, UPON A PIPKIN OF JELLIE by ROBERT HERRICK THE MARTYR; INDICATIVE OF PASSION OF PEOPLES APRIL 15, 1865 by HERMAN MELVILLE ON THE MEDUSA OF LEONARDO DA VINCI IN THE FLORENTINE GALLERY by PERCY BYSSHE SHELLEY DISILLUSIONMENT OF TEN O'CLOCK by WALLACE STEVENS CHOEPHOROI: INVOCATION OF AGAMEMNON'S GHOST by AESCHYLUS EMBLEMS OF LOVE: 23. SOONER WOUNDED THAN CURED by PHILIP AYRES |