Written For My Son, To Some Of The Fellows Of The College, - Poem by Mary Barber
We of late had a terrible Rout in our House;
If I happen'd to speak, I was sure of a Souse.
My Mamma had the Tooth--ach, and I felt the Smart--
O Steel, I for ever will yalue thy Art:
Both Children, and Servants, to thee are beholden;
Let them do what they would, they were sure of a Scolding.
Athenians, I humbly beseech you, explain,
Why the Tongue cannot rest, when the Teeth are in Pain.
Comments about Written For My Son, To Some Of The Fellows Of The College, by Mary Barber
Read this poem in other languages
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
Still I Rise
The Road Not Taken
If You Forget Me
Edgar Allan Poe
Stopping By Woods On A Snowy Evening
I Do Not Love You Except Because I Love You