Bed in Summer
In winter I get up at night
And dress by yellow candle-light.
In summer quite the other way,
I have to go to bed by day.
I have to go to bed and see
The birds still hopping on the tree,
Or hear the grown-up people’s feet
Still going past me in the street.
And does it not seem hard to you,
When all the sky is clear and blue,
And I should like so much to play,
To have to go to bed by day?





Related poetry:
- End of Summer An agitation of the air, A perturbation of the light Admonished me the unloved year Would turn on its hinge […]...
- Indian Summer A soft veil dims the tender skies, And half conceals from pensive eyes The bronzing tokens of the fall; A […]...
- A Man Young And Old: VIII. Summer And Spring We sat under an old thorn-tree And talked away the night, Told all that had been said or done Since […]...
- Summer Some men there are who find in nature all Their inspiration, hers the sympathy Which spurs them on to any […]...
- 220. Song-The Winter it is Past THE WINTER it is past, and the summer comes at last And the small birds, they sing on ev’ry tree; […]...
- I See The Boys Of Summer I I see the boys of summer in their ruin Lay the gold tithings barren, Setting no store by harvest, […]...
- Mother, Summer, I My mother, who hates thunder storms, Holds up each summer day and shakes It out suspiciously, lest swarms Of grape-dark […]...
- 'Twas here my summer paused ‘Twas here my summer paused What ripeness after then To other scene or other soul My sentence had begun. To […]...
- The Summer Sun Shone Round Me THE summer sun shone round me, The folded valley lay In a stream of sun and odour, That sultry summer […]...
- In spring and summer winds may blow In spring and summer winds may blow, And rains fall after, hard and fast; The tender leaves, if beaten low, […]...
- Farm Boy After Summer A seated statue of himself he seems. A bronze slowness becomes him. Patently The page he contemplates he doesn’t see. […]...
- Old Times Friend of my youth, let us talk of old times; Of the long lost golden hours. When “Winter” meant only […]...
- Harlem Shadows I hear the halting footsteps of a lass In Negro Harlem when the night lets fall Its veil. I see […]...
- Little Summer Poem Touching The Subject Of Faith Every summer I listen and look Under the sun’s brass and even Into the moonlight, but I can’t hear Anything, […]...
- A something in a summer's Day A something in a summer’s Day As slow her flambeaux burn away Which solemnizes me. A something in a summer’s […]...
- When on a Summer's Morn When on a summer’s morn I wake, And open my two eyes, Out to the clear, born-singing rills My bird-like […]...
- Summer Colours Long curls Lightest blond Like silver and gold In the saffron sun Summer dresses Cool white Show lots of skin […]...
- How know it from a Summer's Day? How know it from a Summer’s Day? Its Fervors are as firm And nothing in the Countenance But scintillates the […]...
- The red man says hello the red man says hello The green tree says i’m here All grown-ups are sleeping Only the children hear Decorations […]...
- A Summer Night HER mist of primroses within her breast Twilight hath folded up, and o’er the west, Seeking remoter valleys long hath […]...