"Dear me!" wailed all the household -- A Monday morning chorus -- "How can we ever finish The work that lies before us?" But midway in the wailing Our groans to laughter shifted, For Babe was in the corner, His hands devoutly lifted. "Why, Babe! This isn't bedtime!" We cry when we discover. "I fought I'd thay my pwayers And det just that much over." | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...TO MY NINETH DECADE by WALTER SAVAGE LANDOR ST. SIMEON STYLITES by ALFRED TENNYSON A PENNY'S WORTH OF POESY by FRANKLIN PIERCE ADAMS PEARLS OF THE FAITH: 28. AS-BAZIR by EDWIN ARNOLD HOARFROST by STELLA PFEIFFER BAISCH PSALM 33. EXULTATE JUSTI by OLD TESTAMENT BIBLE THE CHAMPION (SUGGESTED BY A STORY OF JACK LONDON) by BERTON BRALEY |