I know it all . . . I know. For I am God. I am Jehovah, He Who made you what you are; and I can see
(PSALM CXVI.) Because He heard my voice, and answered me, Because He listened, ah, so patiently,
If only dinner cooked itself, And groceries grew upon the shelf; If children did as they were told,
See, I am cumbered, Lord, With serving, and with small vexatious things. Upstairs, and down, my feet
In her last hour of life the tree Gave up her glorious memories, Wild scent of wood anemone,
I've had a naughty day to-day. I scrunched a biscuit in my hair, And dipped my feeder in the milk,