"Isn't it very lucky," I once heard a youngster say, "That it never snows in summer, when the snow would melt away? And wouldn't it be dreadful if the sun rose in the night When the people all were gone to bed, their eyes shut tight? And how do you account for this, that when our teacher's crusty Our behavior's always dreadful and our knowledge always rusty? And isn't it very fortunate that when her temper's jolly We somehow never spoil it by poor lessons or by folly?" | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...DOMESDAY BOOK: WIDOW FORTELKA by EDGAR LEE MASTERS THE PAST IS THE PRESENT (2) by MARIANNE MOORE CLARK STREET BRIDGE by CARL SANDBURG THE SEALS IN PENOBSCOT BAY by KAREN SWENSON INVOCATION by LOUIS UNTERMEYER BALLAD MADE AT THE REQUEST OF HIS MOTHER .. PRAY TO OUR LADY by FRANCOIS VILLON |