Oh, to have a little farm, <br />A little hearth so warm and bright, <br />And three little boys all safe from harm <br />In from the winter night! <br /> <br />A little house with white-washed wall, <br />And thatched like any golden rick, <br />And the little boys within my call, <br />And they running so quick. <br /> <br />A garden and an apple tree, <br />And me so busy all the day, <br />And the little boys at home with me, <br />Merry out at their play. <br /> <br />There was a woman I've heard tell, <br />Whose three fine sons were killed. For sure <br />'Tis good to have them little and well <br />And just beyond your door. <br /> <br />This while back there is something wrong -- <br />It may be that I miss the boys <br />Who filled the house the whole day long <br />With happy laughter and noise! <br /> <br />And often when I sit my lone <br />The sadness comes and lies on me <br />For the poor soul that has no son. <br />And me having the three! <br /> <br />And it's oh, to have the little farm <br />Under the golden thatch so bright, <br />And the little boys safe home from harm <br />Shut in with me at night!<br /><br />Katharine Tynan<br /><br />http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/the-mother-of-three/
