Poem September 28, 1899 Issue

A Little Boy's Song

F. D. Sherman

The Watchman

I smile, and then the sun comes out,
He hides away whene'er I pout;
He seems a very funny sun
To do whatever he sees done.
And when it rains he disappears;
Like me, he can't see through the tears.
Now, isn't that the reason why
I ought to smile and never cry?

F. D. Sherman.
The Watchman.

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