[Envoi]
But you may sing all day, you know;
You cannot really make it grow.
And you may know it is Not Fair;
But that won't give you Curly Hair.
I Was Lost
[Oh, the Day that I was Lost, I never shall forget:
I wake up in the night sometimes, and think It's Happening Yet.]
he let me go, a minute.
She said she would take care;
But she let me go, a minute:
And then— She wasn't there.
Everything grew awful
That was good before.
And the Faces didn't look
Like people any more.
It made you feel like Wrinkles
All over you; and Cold.
It made you feel two hundred
And eighty-nine years old.
It was like being Homesick,
And Hurt; when no one Cares.
It was exactly like a Wreck;
And people smiled like Bears.