A fair slim boy not made for this world's pain, With hair of gold thick clustering round his ears, And longing eyes half veil'd by foolish tears Like bluest water seen through mists of rain; Pale cheeks whereon no kiss hath left its stain, Red under-lip drawn in for fear of Love, And white throat whiter than the breast of dove -- Alas! alas! if all should be in vain. Corn-fields behind, and reapers all a-row In weariest labour toiling wearily, To no sweet sound of laughter, or of lute; And careless of the crimson sunset-glow The boy still dreams: nor knows that night is nigh: And in the night-time no man gathers fruit. | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...CHARLES CARVILLE'S EYES by EDWIN ARLINGTON ROBINSON THE HOUSEKEEPER by ROBERT FROST A SHROPSHIRE LAD: 15 by ALFRED EDWARD HOUSMAN OLD POETS by ALFRED JOYCE KILMER THE FLYING DUTCHMAN by EDWIN ARLINGTON ROBINSON THE CHILD ALONE: 7. THE LAND OF STORY-BOOKS by ROBERT LOUIS STEVENSON THE RAGGED WOOD by WILLIAM BUTLER YEATS AN INVENTORY OF THE FURNITURE IN DR. PRIESTLEY'S STUDY by ANNA LETITIA BARBAULD |