 | Jane and Ann Taylor: Original Poems for Infant Minds |  |
CRUST AND CRUMB.
I can't eat all my bread indeed:
Mamma yet says I must:
This piece of crumb I do not need;
I've eaten all the crust.
Mamma yet says I must:
This piece of crumb I do not need;
I've eaten all the crust.
We never should throw bread away,
It is a sin to waste;
Yon poor boy's glances seem to say,
“I wish I had a taste.”
It is a sin to waste;
Yon poor boy's glances seem to say,
“I wish I had a taste.”
141
Step hither, and you shall have some;
Come here, my little man;
You think there's crust, 'tis only crumb;
But eat it if you can.
Come here, my little man;
You think there's crust, 'tis only crumb;
But eat it if you can.
He eats with such delightful glee,
His eyes are brimmed with joy;
How very hungry he must be,
Unhappy little boy!
His eyes are brimmed with joy;
How very hungry he must be,
Unhappy little boy!
The day of hunger and distress
As yet I never knew;
And for the plenty I possess,
O Lord! my thanks are due.
As yet I never knew;
And for the plenty I possess,
O Lord! my thanks are due.
And now I feel another's grief,
And now myself I know;
Whene'er my heart would give relief,
My hand shall not be slow.
And now myself I know;
Whene'er my heart would give relief,
My hand shall not be slow.
| Jane and Ann Taylor: Original Poems for Infant Minds | |