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Ella Wheeler Wilcox (Элла Уилкокс) * * * Be sorry for the boys a bit, And mothers, guard your girls. What are they doing while you knit? Can they among the throngs be found That daily haunt the camping ground, With skirts that hardly hide the knees, With hanging braids and curls, And ways that tantalise and tease The tiger that lies in the lair Of each man's heart? Oh, mothers, spare Yourselves a life-long grief and shame, And face this fact: Bold innocence oft makes a pact With knowing evil, by its act; And men should not bear all the blame Of sins that follow. Unaware Of all it means, your daughters dare And challenge men to give full rein To passions which they would restrain. Be sorry for the boys a bit. All duty is not just to knit! Lay down the sweater and the sock And with your daughters sweetly talk. Tell them the things they need to know: Guard what they do, and where they go: Let down their skirts an inch or so; Restrain their riant curls Before like butterflies they flit To dazzle soldiers' eyes. Safeguard their innocence and youth By telling them life's sacred TRUTH. Oh, help them to be wise. Ella Wheeler Wilcox's other poems: Распечатать (Print) Количество обращений к стихотворению: 1192 |
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