Poetry of Kansas
 

The Parish School.

TWO LITTLE nuns are teaching school
    Near by on Cosy Street;
I pass each morning, as a rule,
    And now and then we meet.

The humble house is small and low;
    Its walls are rude and bare
And yet I loiter by, for, oh,
    It seems so peaceful there

I never liked to go to school
    I always rather play;
I hated any kind of rule,
    And sometimes ran away:

But when I pass that little door,
    And breathe that holy air,
I want to be a boy once more,
    And learn my lessons there.

Oh, little nuns, with wimples white,
    And hearts of purest gold,
My soul is troubled sore to-night,
    My heart is growing cold.

Oh, little nuns of sable dress,
    And souls of drifting snow,
Teach me the way of righteousness,
    And I can learn, I know.

__Albert Bigelow Paine.

 
Rhymes by Two Friends
Albert Bigelow Paine & William Allen White
(Fort Scott: M. L. Izor and Son. 1893)
Pages 118-119
 
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October 6, 2002 / John & Susan Howell / Wichita, Kansas / howell@kotn.org

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