MY mother bids me spend my smiles On all who come and call me fair, As crumbs are thrown upon the tiles, To all the sparrows of the air. But I've a darling of my own For whom I hoard my little stock-- What if I chirp him all alone, And leave mamma to feed the flock! | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...CHRISTMAS by PAUL LAURENCE DUNBAR THE MESSAGES by WILFRID WILSON GIBSON AN ENGLISH MOTHER by ROBERT UNDERWOOD JOHNSON THE BATTLE OF NASEBY by THOMAS BABINGTON MACAULAY DUNCAN WEIR by ALEXANDER ANDERSON |