EXPERIENCE.
93
I dream bad dreams and loose my sleep Whenever these things I meet,I think that a law should be made to keep Such objects out of the street.
You say that Nellie sat up last night Alone with a dying child!How could she do it? The very sight Of the sick would drive me wild.
The mother was tired and quite undone? I could not help that, I am sure;I know I never could be the one To drudge in the huts of the poor.
I live in the golden gleam of light; My life is a field of flowers,I shrink from the gloom and dark of night In dread of its dismal hours.
Then bring no tale of your woe to me, Nor talk of your falling tears;My heart is singing a song of glee, So glad are my girlish years.
******
