poems.
43
THE LITTLE BOOTS.
Only two little boots by the fire so bright,
Only two little stockings to mend to-night;
The one who owns them is snug in bed,
Where the moonbeams dance on his curly head.
Only two little stockings to mend to-night;
The one who owns them is snug in bed,
Where the moonbeams dance on his curly head.
These little boots gave me trouble to-day,
Bringing in mud from out-door play;
Scattering pebbles over the floor,
Tracking dirt in at the great hall door.
Bringing in mud from out-door play;
Scattering pebbles over the floor,
Tracking dirt in at the great hall door.
These little boots gave me sorrow to-day,
Straying from mother's sight away;
Climbing trees, and wading streams,
Chasing shadows and sunny beams.
Straying from mother's sight away;
Climbing trees, and wading streams,
Chasing shadows and sunny beams.
These little stockings, so worn and gray,
Have these tiny treasures caused trouble to-day?
Ah! indeed they have, in racing about,
In joining plays and merry shout.
Have these tiny treasures caused trouble to-day?
Ah! indeed they have, in racing about,
In joining plays and merry shout.
Alas! I have had trouble to-day,
And yet would I give these treasures away?
And yet would I give these treasures away?
