THE dear old woman in the lane Is sick and sore with pains and aches, We'll go to her this afternoon, And take her tea and eggs and cakes. We'll stop to make the kettle boil, And brew some tea, and set the tray, And poach an egg, and toast a cake, And wheel her chair round, if we may. | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...SECOND BOOK OF AIRS: SONG 3 by GAIUS VALERIUS CATULLUS SONNET: ON A FAMILY PICTURE by THOMAS EDWARDS THE LARK ASCENDING by GEORGE MEREDITH THE TRAGEDY by THOMAS BAILEY ALDRICH FALSORUM DEORUM CULTOR by WILLIAM ROSE BENET A WOMAN'S SONNETS: 9 by WILFRID SCAWEN BLUNT THE AVENUE by GEORGES BOUTELLEAU |