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A poem by Edgar A. Guest |
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When The Young Are Grown |
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Title: When The Young Are Grown Author: Edgar A. Guest [More Titles by Guest] Once the house was lovely, but it's lonely here to-day, We couldn't keep 'em always an' we knew it from the start; Oh, there's just one consolation, as we're sittin' here at night, They're clean, an' kind an' honest, an' the world respects 'em, too; [The end] GO TO TOP OF SCREEN |