MY lad, who sits at breakfast With forehead in a frown, Because the chop is under-done, And the fritter over-brown, -- Just leave your dainty mincing, And take, to mend your fare, A slice of golden sunshine, And a cup of the morning air. And when you have eat and drunken, If you want a little fun, Throw by your jacket of broadcloth, And take an up-hill run. And what with one and the other You will be so strong and gay, That work will be only a pleasure Through all the rest of the day. And when it is time for supper, Your bread and milk will be As sweet as a comb of honey. Will you try my recipe? | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...SONG OF TWO CROWS by HAYDEN CARRUTH INDEPENDENCE DAY, 1956, A FAIRY TALE by JAMES GALVIN OFFERING by GEORGIA DOUGLAS JOHNSON PRIDE by GEORGIA DOUGLAS JOHNSON SURFACES AND MASKS; 7 by CLARENCE MAJOR |