The Book of the Little Past

The Book of the Little Past

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The Book of the Little Past by Josephine Preston Peabody

Published:

1910

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The Book of the Little Past

By

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Book Excerpt

I don't care how-- While I am very, very young; As young as almost Now.

They never felt what Sorrow was; Or never learned their Golden Rule; They say, These are your happiest days, --With School,--School,--School!

When Saturday's all out of breath With all the week before in sight;-- And Monday coming after you Spoils every Sunday night!

And Nothing done but yesterdays; And Nothing coming but to-morrows! Don't cheer me up. Please let me be. --I have the Sorrows.

Secrets

I have a secret to myself, That no one else can see. I hum it over to myself, And no one hears but me. --Something You don't know! I knew long ago.-- And the more I never tell you it, The more it gets to be.

It makes me feel as purry As the Kitten on your knee. It makes me feel as round and warm As the Sparrow on that tree; It makes me puff my feathers out The way he puffs out his.-- And if you think I haven't one, I'll tell you what it Is, --Maybe!

The Christmas Tree

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