Marri'd
It's singing in and out
And feeling full of grace;
Here and there, up and down,
And round about the place.
It's rolling up your sleeves,
And whitening the hearth,
And scrubbing out the floors,
And sweeping down the path:
It's baking tarts and pies,
And shining up the knives;
And feeling like some days
Was worth a thousand lives.
It's watching out the door,
And watching by the gate;
And watching down the road,
And wondering why he's late;
And
feeling anxious-like,
For fear there's something wrong;
And wondering why he's kept,
And why he takes so long.
It's coming back inside
And sitting down a spell,
To sort of make believe
You're thinking things is well.
It's getting up again
And wandering in and out;
And feeling wistful-like,
Not knowing what about;
And flushing all at once
And smiling just so sweet,
And feeling read proud
The place is fresh and neat.
And feeling awful glad
Like them that watched Siloam;
And everything because
A man is coming home!
Mary Gilmore b.1865