English poem
SONNET WROTE ON THE FLY-LEAF OF MY GRAMMAR DURIN’ SCHOOL HOURS
by Nixon Waterman (1859–1944)
O Education! Maybe thou art all Our teachers tell us, but just let me say That if my folks wouldst let me have my way, From early Spring till frost comes in the Fall I'dst be outdoors, you bet! a-playin' ball Or otherwise enjoyin' each fine day. It seem'st a shame for boys to have to stay Like culprits shut in by a prison wall!
I guess if you get rich folks wilt not care If you don'tst know your grammar to a T, For baby boys, you'llst find 'most everywhere, Art named for uncles who hast money, see? Though they hain'tst got no learnin' they canst spare Nor never spell their 'taters with a p.
More by Nixon Waterman
- LINES WROTE WHILST SMARTIN’ FROM PUNISHMENT RECEIVED FOR LYIN’
- LINES WROTE WHILST THINKIN’ ABOUT HOW PA ACTS WHEN DRESSIN’ UP
- Some Thoughts Thought Whilst Havin’ To Bathe In A Bath-Tub
- SONNET WROTE AFTER HEARIN’ A YOUTH ORATIN’ ABOUT “CASABIANCA”
- SONNET WROTE WHILST RETROSPECTIVELY CONTEMPLATIN’ MY FIRST CIGAR
- SONNET WROTE WHILST THINKIN’ ABOUT A VACATION SPENT ON A FARM
- SONNET WROTE WHILST THINKIN’ OF MY SISTER MAYMIE'S HOMELY BEAU
- SONNET WROTE WHILST THINKIN’ OF OUR PARENTS IN THE GARDEN OF EDEN