Classic Poem

I have no trees before my house
To cast their pleasant shade,
About my windows never twine
The blossoms God has made,
But there are roses, sweeter far,
That on the pavements bloom—
The children of the city streets,
Whose laughter lights my room.

No hedges like a honeyed wall
Adorn my dwelling place,
No fountains weave upon my lawn
A web of twinkling lace,
For me no robins greet the sun,
A fan of rainbow gleams,
But children play before my house,
Who keep me young with dreams.

What loneliness the streets would know
If children were not here!
Their joyous voices bring a smile
Or wing away a tear.
The country house is rich, indeed,
With blossom, bird and tree,
But happy children at my door
Are wealth enough for me!