Come, let us, ere we go to bed,
O'er the decaying embers chat,
Though little Mary hangs her head,
And strokes no more the purring cat.
And let us tell how prisoners pine
In silent dungeons dark and drear;
Whilst on each face the embers shine,
And all is calm and peaceful here.
The English cot is free from cares;
But, see, the brand is wasted quite;
Come, little Mary, say your prayers;
Kiss, mother, kiss! good night, good night!
Saturday Night. (from The Villager's Verse-book.)
William Lisle Bowles
(1)
Poem topics: cat, dark, mother, head, face, silent, shine, kiss, night, good, Print This Poem , Rhyme Scheme
Submit Spanish Translation
Submit German Translation
Submit French Translation
<< Spring - Cuckoo. (from The Villager's Verse-book.) Poem
Easter Day. (from The Villager's Verse-book.) Poem>>
Write your comment about Saturday Night. (from The Villager's Verse-book.) poem by William Lisle Bowles
Best Poems of William Lisle Bowles