The world is full of gladness, There are joys of many kinds, There's a cure for every sadness, That each troubled mortal finds. And my little cares grow lighter And I cease to fret and sigh, And my eyes with joy grow brighter When she makes a lemon pie. When the bronze is on the filling That's one mass of shining gold, And its molten joy is spilling On the plate, my heart grows bold. And the kids and I in chorus Raise one glad exultant cry And we cheer the treat before us -- Which is mother's lemon pie. Then the little troubles vanish, And the sorrows disappear, Then we find the grit to banish All the cares that hovered near, And we smack our lips in pleasure O'er a joy no coin can buy, And we down the golden treasure Which is known as lemon pie. | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...SONNET TO THE RIVER OTTER by SAMUEL TAYLOR COLERIDGE THE HIPPOPOTAMUS by THOMAS STEARNS ELIOT IN A CATHEDRAL CITY by THOMAS HARDY HIS PRAYER TO BEN JONSON by ROBERT HERRICK SAGE COUNSEL by ARTHUR THOMAS QUILLER-COUCH CHERRY TREE IN AUTUMN by MARIE DAVIES WARREN BECKNER |