William Allingham

(19 March 1824 – 18 November 1889 / Donegal / Ireland)

The Boy


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.

Submitted: Tuesday, December 31, 2002
Edited: Friday, June 29, 2012

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