He shakes the dust from off his feet And shambles down the dirty street - The last man in the town, they said, Who'd shot a hundred Yankees dead. At every door he looks inside Where pansies bloom and violets hide; Some little boys offer him a cheer, And only the town-dog seems to leer. What does he seek with watery eyes? A face or two, perhaps, or lies That tell him Genevieve is there, Behind the trellis, just as fair. I cannot say he walks in vain, Nor back of his leather-lips is pain - Only no bottle yields its cork And skyscrapers tower in far New York. | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...EARTH IS ENOUGH by EDWIN MARKHAM TWO SONGS OF A FOOL: 1 by WILLIAM BUTLER YEATS STANZAS by GEORGE GORDON BYRON THE SHADOW DANCE by LOUISE CHANDLER MOULTON ODES I, 5 by QUINTUS HORATIUS FLACCUS IMMORTALITY by GEORGE WILLIAM RUSSELL |