The little god, child verse for grown-ups . SUMMER Summers come. How my garden growsViolets in bunches, pansies all in rows,— Same old pansies wearing facesThat they wore last year—Laughing at me—looking queerOut the corners of their eyes,Making believe that they are Awful wise. Oh, Im going to have such lovely fun,For the summers just begun;Im not going to dread the fall, Cause after allMother Nature tucks them in their seed,Just as Mother tucks me into bed For the sleep I BULLDOGS ON A STEM Like little bulldogs on a stemMy pansies look,—I bark at them;Perhaps if I could harkEnough, Id

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The little god, child verse for grown-ups . SUMMER Summers come. How my garden growsViolets in bunches, pansies all in rows,— Same old pansies wearing facesThat they wore last year—Laughing at me—looking queerOut the corners of their eyes,Making believe that they are Awful wise. Oh, Im going to have such lovely fun,For the summers just begun;Im not going to dread the fall, Cause after allMother Nature tucks them in their seed,Just as Mother tucks me into bed For the sleep I BULLDOGS ON A STEM Like little bulldogs on a stemMy pansies look,—I bark at them;Perhaps if I could harkEnough, Id hear them bark at they had tails they might get freeAnd run around and play with me.

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Keywords: ., bookcentury1900, bookdecade1910, bookpublisherbosto, bookyear1916