THE RECESS HOUR.
Hark! it is the recess bell,
That the children love so well;
And the school doors open wide,
To let out the eager tide.
You can hear the distant hum,
Of their voices as they come.
They're as eager to be free,
As we grown folks used to be.
You will find them just the same,
If you pause to watch a game.
Some are timid, some are bold,
The same contrasts as of old.
All the various types are there,
Showing both neglect and care.
Now you see a little face,
That is ideal in its grace.
And again a pair of eyes,
That are prematurely wise.
Wise in knowledge of the woe.
That their owner should not know.
Little women, little men,
With the child-life crushed in them.
That the children love so well;
And the school doors open wide,
To let out the eager tide.
You can hear the distant hum,
Of their voices as they come.
They're as eager to be free,
As we grown folks used to be.
You will find them just the same,
If you pause to watch a game.
Some are timid, some are bold,
The same contrasts as of old.
All the various types are there,
Showing both neglect and care.
Now you see a little face,
That is ideal in its grace.
And again a pair of eyes,
That are prematurely wise.
Wise in knowledge of the woe.
That their owner should not know.
Little women, little men,
With the child-life crushed in them.
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