Two Little Pairs of Boots

A little poem that is a good reminder to me! It's so easy to sigh over all the work our children create for us, yet if we lost them we'd give the world to be able to do that work again just to have them back.
Two little pairs of boots tonight,
Before the fire are drying,
Two little pairs of tired feet
In a trundle bed are lying;
The tracks they left upon the floor
Make me feel much like sighing.
Those little boots with copper toes!
They run the lifelong day,
And oftentimes I almost wish
That they were miles away,
So tired am I to hear so oft
Their heavy tramp at play.
They walked about the new-ploughed ground,
Where mud in plenty lies;
They rolled it up in marbles round,
And baked it into pies,
And then at night upon the floor,
In every shape it dries
Today I was disposed to scold,
But when I see tonight,
These little boots before the fire,
With copper toes so bright,
I think how sad my heart would be
To put them out of sight.
For in a trunk upstairs I've laid
Two socks of white and blue;
If called to put those boots away,
O God, what would should I do?
I mourn that there are not tonight
Three pairs, instead of two.
I mourn because I thought how nice
My neighbor 'cross the way
Could keep her carpets all the year
From getting worn and gray;
Yet well I know she'd smile to own
Some little boots today
We mothers weary get and worn,
Over our load of care;
But how we speak of little ones,
Let each of us beware;
For what would our fireside be at night
If no little boots were there?

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