P.C. Home Page . Recent Additions
A B . C D .
E F . G H .
I J . K L .
M N . O P .
Q R . S T .
U V . W X .
- O! COME to the greenwood shade,
- Away from the city's din,
- From the heartless strife of trade,
- And the fumes of beer and gin;
- Where commerce spreads her fleets,
- Where bloated luxury lies,
- And Want as she prowls the streets,
- Looks on with her wolfish eyes.
- From the city with its sin,
- And its many coloured code,
- Its palaces raised to gin,
- And its temples reared to God;
- Its cellars dark and dank,
- Where never a sunbeam falls,
- Amid faces lean and lank,
- As the hungry-looking walls.
- Its festering pits of woe,
- Its teeming earthly hells,
- Whose surges ever flow,
- In sound of the Sabbath bells!
- O God! I would rather be
- An Indian in the wood,
- And range through the forest free,
- In search of my daily food.
- O! rather would I pursue,
- The wolf and the grizzly bear,
- Than toil for the thankless few,
- In those seething pits of care;
- Here winter's breath is rude,
- And his fingers cold and wan;
- But what is his wildest mood,
- To the tyranny of man?
- To the trackless forest wild,
- To the loneliest abode;
- O! the heart is reconciled,
- That has felt oppression's load!
- The desert place is bright,
- The wilderness is fair,
- If hope but shed her light,--
- If freedom be but there.
- Alexander McLachlan
Poets' Corner .
H O M E .