Poem : Boy, The

Poet : William Allingham

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.