|
|
Out Of Reach?
By James Whitcomb Riley
You think them "out of reach," your dead?
Nay, by my own dead, I deny
Your "out of reach." - Be comforted:
'Tis not so far to die.
O by their dear remembered smiles
And outheld hands and welcoming speech,
They wait for us, thousands of miles
This side of "out-of-reach."
Extra Info:
|
|
Printable Page
Add Your Thoughts on this poem.
This page viewed 375 times.
|
|