But Willie 1900 said (a present-century lad), “I wish I’d lived five hundred years ago; This spending time in school-rooms--oh, I wouldn’t have to do, For then these things they didn’t have to know! It’s a nuisance reading history--they didn’t have much then, And as for science--my! ’twas jolly fun, For there wasn’t electricity or sound for boys to learn,--
The discoverers weren’t born--or hardly one! I’d like to live as boys did ten hundred years ago, ‘Cause _they_ had nothing else to do but play! If there wasn’t anything to learn, or more than they had _then_, My! wouldn’t I be happy _every day_!”
I s’pose my head is like a chest, With drawers and things inside; Some small for dates and words to spell,-- The rest just deep and wide, For states ’bout which I’ll have to learn, And products, grain and wool! But what I’ll do I’d like to know,-- When every drawer is full!
Seated on the village wharf, Where the steamers come and go, Skipper Bailey spins and spins, Ending always, “Don’t you know?”
By the dear old kitchen hearth, Briskly walking to and fro, Grandma, singing, spins and spins,-- Years ago ’twas always so.
O’er a cave in time of Bruce, Now in attic corners high; What is it that spins and spins? Ah, be wary, little fly!
Out along the country road, Over hills and through the vale, Brother Johnny spins and spins, In the early morning pale.
’Mid balls and blocks and Noah’s Ark, Playing on the parlor floor, Willie, laughing, spins and spins,-- Round it turns, then tumbles o’er.
Think now of these outs and ins, Then tell what each spins and spins.
Shut off from the world with its light and love, A joyless prison-house save in name, With waves of sweltering heat from above,-- From around each corner one meets the same! Only ill-smelling and fetid air Is breathed by the babies God leases there!
Not a butterfly blown from the hills of green, Gives a hint of the wonderful life without; Not a rainbow of promise is ever seen,-- Nothing but crime and disease about! No vesper bell calls to praise and prayer,-- Poor little dwarf souls starving there!
Never a carol or note of bird, As he melts away in the azure blue, From the tenement house is ever heard; Nor is felt the wealth of diamond dew,-- Only curses and oaths fill the smoky air, To poison the babies God leases there!