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Click below to download : A Spring Thought (Format : PDF)
A Spring Thought
The new birds tweet, and buds come sweet,And puffy clouds are in the sky.
The world is full of little girls,
But very few as nice as I!
(The end)
Mary Carolyn Davies's poem: Spring Thought
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Old women say that men don't knowThe pain through which all mothers go,And maybe that is true, and yetI vow I never shall forgetThe night he came. I suffered, too,Those bleak and dreary long hours through;I paced the floor and mopped my browAnd waited for his glad wee-ow!I went upstairs and then came down,Because I saw the doctor frownAnd knew beyond the slightest doubtHe wished to goodness I'd clear out.I walked into the yard for airAnd back again to hear her there,And met the nurse, as calm as thoughMy world was not in deepest woe,And when I questioned, seeking speechOf consolation
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Old women say that men don't knowThe pain through which all mothers go,And maybe that is true, and yetI vow I never shall forgetThe night he came. I suffered, too,Those bleak and dreary long hours through;I paced the floor and mopped my browAnd waited for his glad wee-ow!I went upstairs and then came down,Because I saw the doctor frownAnd knew beyond the slightest doubtHe wished to goodness I'd clear out.I walked into the yard for airAnd back again to hear her there,And met the nurse, as calm as thoughMy world was not in deepest woe,And when I questioned, seeking speechOf consolation
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The father toils at his work all day,And he hums this song as he plods away: "Heigho! for the mother and babe of three Who watch at the window each night for me. Their smiles are ever before my eyes, And never the sound of their voices dies, But ever and ever they seem to say, 'Love waits for you at the close of day.'"At home, a mother is heard to croonTo a little babe, this simple tune: "Heigho! for the father who toils to-day, He thinks of us, though he's far away;
The Song Of Loved Ones
The father toils at his work all day,And he hums this song as he plods away: "Heigho! for the mother and babe of three Who watch at the window each night for me. Their smiles are ever before my eyes, And never the sound of their voices dies, But ever and ever they seem to say, 'Love waits for you at the close of day.'"At home, a mother is heard to croonTo a little babe, this simple tune: "Heigho! for the father who toils to-day, He thinks of us, though he's far away;
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