HOW changeable the children grow, All winter long they liked the snow, But now they're begging me to go. November when the wind was shrill They cried me welcome with a will, But now they're begging me be still. They're begging me to hurry by, "Jack Frost, Jack Frost, please go," they cry, "And let dear spring come to the sky!" | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...SISTER MARIA CELESTE, GALILEO'S DAUGHTER, WRITES TO FRIEND by MADELINE DEFREES THE FAMILY by KATHERINE MANSFIELD FOR THE NEW YEAR by EDWIN MARKHAM NO EXEMPTION FOR TOURISTS by KAREN SWENSON RESCUE by JEAN STARR UNTERMEYER THE CRUISE OF THE MONITOR [MARCH 9, 1862] by GEORGE M. BAKER |