Henry Clay Work poems

Henry Clay Work(1 October 1832 - 8 June 1884 / Middletown, Connecticut)
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Don't Be Cruel to the Motherless Darlings

- by Henry Clay Work 71

The sun that sank just now beyond those calm waters
Shines not for me;
The sun that will to-morrow gild yonder mountain
I shall not see.
Faint forms draw near, and seem to beckon, beckon;
"Come now!" sweet voices seem to say;
And, but for thought of these my poor little darlings,
Glad I obey!

I must let go each little hand;
I must leave all behind.
Oh! don't be cruel to the motherless darlings;
Don't be unkind!

Since first I looked upon my Delbert and Daisy
Five years and three --
'Twas love and gentleness, 'twas ruling by kindness,
Won them to me.
Harsh words will draw them nearer never, never!
But love their hidden hearts will find.
Oh! don't be cruel to the motherless darlings;
Don't be unkind!

'Twould break their little hearts if, while in your keeping,
Love were withdrawn --
If, through your cold neglect, they lose all their sunshine
When I am gone.
To this, my dying message, listen, listen!
Keep this, my last request, in mind:
Oh! don't be cruel to the motherless darlings;
Don' be unkind!

Dad's a Millionaire

- by Henry Clay Work 69

I wish you joy, my little ragged throng--
Your Dad's a millionaire!
The fortune's come, we've waited for so long,
And I'm a millionaire!
Come Will, come Bub--go buy some better shoes;
Come Liz, come Lu--go tell your Ma the news--
Though once poor, we're now as rich as Jews,
For I'm a millionaire.

Hurrah! hurrah! now give us a rousing song--
Good bye! good bye! to poverty, want and care;
The fortune's come, we've waited for so long,
And Dad's a millionaire!

Good news! I'll go a shopping--so I will,
For Dad's a millionaire!
And I must have a thousand dollar bill,
As Dad'a a millionaire!
Put on your duds, and you'll go with me Lu!
Come Bub, go call a carriage from the square;
We'll ride in style along the avenue,
For Dad's a millionaire.

Hip, hip, hooray! run up the striped flay--
My Dad's a millionaire!
This bless-ed day, I'll buy a trotting nag,
For Dad's a millionaire!
I vow, I'll smoke three-cent gigars no more!
Here, take them Bub, and pitch them out the door;
I'll have the best--the dearest in the store,
Now Dad's a millionaire.

So, wife, you think this house will never do
Now I'm a millionaire?
Well, I must build a mansion then for you,
As I'm a millionaire!
Though as for me, I think I should invest--
My whole pile in some mammoth farm out West,
Yet I can build, if you should think it best,
Since I'm a millionaire.

I'll tell you what! we'll give a party then,
As Dad's a millionaire!
And we'll invite none but the "upper ten,"
Since Dad's a millionaire!
I should be sure to find another beau,
For dukes and lords, and nobles would be there--
I've turn'd him off--the tailor's clerk, you know,
Now Dad's a millionaire.

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Poems by Henry Clay Work, Henry Clay Work's poems collection. Henry Clay Work is a classical and famous poet (1 October 1832 - 8 June 1884 / Middletown, Connecticut). Share all poems of Henry Clay Work.

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