It is never too late to have a happy childhood

It is never too late to have a happy childhood

Do ye hear the children weeping, O my brothers,
Ere the sorrow comes with years?
They are read more

Do ye hear the children weeping, O my brothers,
Ere the sorrow comes with years?
They are leaning their young heads against their mothers,
And that cannot stop their tears.

When the lessons and tasks are all ended,
And the school for the day is dismissed,
The read more

When the lessons and tasks are all ended,
And the school for the day is dismissed,
The little one gather around me,
To bid me good-night and be kissed;
On, the little white arms that encircle
My neck in their tender embrace
Oh, the smiles that are halos of heaven,
Shedding sunshine of love on my face.

What is a normal childhood? We weren't rich, we were pretty middle-class. My dad survived from job to job; with read more

What is a normal childhood? We weren't rich, we were pretty middle-class. My dad survived from job to job; with him taking care of so many relatives, he couldn't save any money.

A little curly-headed, good-for-nothing,
And mischief-making monkey from his birth.

A little curly-headed, good-for-nothing,
And mischief-making monkey from his birth.

Childhood sometimes does pay a second visit to man, youth never.

Childhood sometimes does pay a second visit to man, youth never.

Lo, children are an heritage of the Lord: and the fruit of the
womb is his reward.
As read more

Lo, children are an heritage of the Lord: and the fruit of the
womb is his reward.
As arrows are in the hand of a mighty man; so are children of the
youth.
Happy is the man that hath his quiver full of them: they shall
not be ashamed, but they shall speak with the enemies in the
gate.

[Witches] steal young children out of their cradles, ministerio
doemonum, and put deformed in their rooms, which we call read more

[Witches] steal young children out of their cradles, ministerio
doemonum, and put deformed in their rooms, which we call
changelings.

Alas! regardless of their doom,
The little victims play;
No sense have they of ills to come,
read more

Alas! regardless of their doom,
The little victims play;
No sense have they of ills to come,
Nor care beyond to-day.