The Boy - Poem by William Allingham
The Boy from his bedroom-window
Look'd over the little town,
And away to the bleak black upland
Under a clouded moon.
The moon came forth from her cavern,
He saw the sudden gleam
Of a tarn in the swarthy moorland;
Or perhaps the whole was a dream.
For I never could find that water
In all my walks and rides:
Far-off, in the Land of Memory,
That midnight pool abides.
Many fine things had I glimpse of,
And said, 'I shall.find them one day.'
Whether within or without me
They were, I cannot say.
Comments about The Boy by William Allingham
Read this poem in other languages
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
Still I Rise
The Road Not Taken
If You Forget Me
Edgar Allan Poe
Stopping By Woods On A Snowy Evening
I Do Not Love You Except Because I Love You