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Three Teachers
Sometimes I can see
When I teach
Half my children talk
Each to each.
Then I almost wish
I could be
Very fierce and they
Scared of me.
They will all be still
For one man
Who could never teach
As I can.
He is kind and strong,
Narrow-souled.
He has never sought
Dangerous gold.
If he might do both
That were good.
In my life I knew
One who could.
She was dark and sweet,
Irish born,
Very full of dreams,
Full of scorn.
Hell and heav'n was she,
Like the sun.
My dear children need
Such a one.
poem
by
Lesbia Harford
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