A RAGGED, sweet little fellow Slips -- Heaven knows whence -- into view, Jestingly greets me his mellow, "What's new?" -- "What's new? Not a thing. Tranquil I leave things as they are, And the words and the song gush upward The same as ever they were." There's a door where I make a great clatter -- Hands in pockets -- kick fair; Cries a voice -- I know well its chatter -- "Who's there?" -- "Same as ever to-day 'tis -- Drinks the fountain, and goes on his way -- Up the peaks, o'er the rise, he is going -- Every night he turns into day." On the highroad a plough-bound peasant Is fixing his ox-gear anew, And, passing, he hails me pleasant, "Where to?" -- "Where to? I don't know. The road only So long is the guide of my feet. I go. I don't ask. My country? 'Tis the world -- 'tis tranquil and sweet." Through wayside and town I sing trolling, And some pitiful heart among men Asks low, as the song goes rolling, "Till when?" -- "Till when? Always. Take heart. Men's doors still open to me. Always. Till on my worn pathway Death comes, with a grin, to see." | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...THE BATTLE OF LA PRAIRIE, 1691 by WILLIAM DOUW LIGHTHALL LOST AND FOUND by GEORGE MACDONALD AUTUMN: A DIRGE by PERCY BYSSHE SHELLEY THE INCHCAPE ROCK by ROBERT SOUTHEY ECHOES OF SPRING: 10 by MATHILDE BLIND OMEN by EDMUND CHARLES BLUNDEN THE LOVE SONNETS OF PROTEUS: 34. REMINDING HER OF A PROMISE (4) by WILFRID SCAWEN BLUNT |