Classic Poem

Here is my own little room;
Fair as a lily in bloom —
That is what mother dear said.
Just see how lovely it looks!
Here are my desk and books,
Here is my own little bed.

This is my sewing-chair;
That is my work-box there.
Everything I shall use;
Thimble and scissors and thread,
Stocking-ball — darning I dread! —
Emery, needles to choose.

Soon as I learned to sew,
Mend my own linen, you know,
Take all the care for my own,
Dusting and making my bed,
Mother always has said,
" Sister shall room all alone. "

Not that the children may
Not be allowed here to play
Sometimes when they are good;
But when I'm reading, you know,
Romping and shouting they go;
Then I want solitude.

Here I shall often sit,
(Mother can read and knit!)
Resting my book on this shelf.
Here my birdie will swing
Right overhead, the dear thing,
Singing away to himself.

Pictures? O yes, I forget!
This is " S. Margaret, " —
None of them costly, but dear —
This is " Aurora " and this —
This is " The Playmate's Kiss, "
And " Jesus and Mary " here.

Here in the winter time
I shall have ivies to climb;
And my Hermosa rose,
All through the winter in bloom,
How it will brighten my room!
I shall forget that it snows.

This pretty student-lamp's mine;
I may sit up until nine,
But I shall join mother dear
Till I come up for the night,
So I my candle shall light
Unless she sits with me here.

Sometimes my friends will come in;
Very soon I shall begin
Asking them duly to come.
Here I mean to " receive; "
Oh, you may laugh, but believe!
For this is my home in my home!