The Hateful Road
Oh pleasant things there be
Without this prison yard :
Fields green, and many a tree
With shadow on the sward,
And drifting clouds that pass
Saihng above the grass.
All lovely things that be
Beyond this strong abode
Send comfort back to me ;
Yea, everything I see
Except the hateful road ;
The road that runs so free
With many a dip and rise,
That waves and beckons me
And mocks and calls at me
And will not let me be
Even when I close my eyes.
poem by Frederick William Harvey
Added by Poetry Lover
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