I love to rise in a summer morn,
When the birds sing on every tree;
The distant huntsman winds his horn,
And the skylark sings with me:
O what sweet company!
But to go to school in a summer morn,
O it drives all joy away!
Under a cruel eye outworn,
The little ones spend the day
In sighing and dismay.
Ah then at times I drooping sit,
And spend many an anxious hour;
Nor in my book can I take delight,
Nor sit in learning’s bower,
Worn through with the dreary shower,
How can the bird that is born for joy
Sit in a cage and sing?
How can a child, when fears annoy,
But drehis tender wing.
And forget the youthful spring!
সম্পূর্ণ সমাধান দেখতে লগইন করুন
প্রশ্নের উত্তর ও ব্যাখ্যা দেখতে হলে সাইন ইন করতে হবে — সম্পূর্ণ বিনামূল্যে।
লগইন করুন