From "Childhood"

When twelve o'clock was counted out,

The joy and strife began,

The shut of books, the hearty shout,

As out of doors we ran.

Sunshine and showers who could withstand?

Our food and rapture they;

We took our dinners in our hands

To lose no time in play.

The morn when first we went to school—

Who can forget the morn

When the birch whip lay upon the clock

And our horn-book it was torn?

We tore the little pictures out,

Less fond of books than play,

And only took one letter home

And that the letter ‘A.’

I love in childhood's little book

To read its lessons through,

And o'er each pictured page to look

Because they read so true.