Every night my prayers I say, And get my dinner every day; And every day that I've been good, I get an orange after food. The child that is not clean and neat, With lots of toys and things to eat, He is a naughty child, I'm sure -- Or else his dear papa is poor. | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...THE YOUTH OF NATURE: WORDSWORTH'S COUNTRY by MATTHEW ARNOLD THE INEVITABLE by SARAH KNOWLES BOLTON TO HIS DYING BROTHER, MASTER WILLIAM HERRICK by ROBERT HERRICK SONNET: ADDRESSED TO HAYDON (2) by JOHN KEATS SONNET: 21. TO CYRIACK SKINNER by JOHN MILTON THE DREAMER by SHAEMAS O'SHEEL |