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<div style="background:#fff;border:#bbb dashed 1px;padding:5px"><a href="http://www.citatepedia.com/comments.php?id=508446" style="color:#000;text-decoration:none"><div style="margin:10px 0"><strong>Mammy</strong></div><div style="margin:10px 0"><a href="http://www.citatepedia.com/comments.php?id=508446" style="color:#000;text-decoration:none">I often wonder how<br> Life clicks because<br>They don't make women now<br> Like Mammy was.<br>When broods of two or three<br> Content most men,<br>How wonderful was she<br> With children ten!</a></div><div style="margin:10px 0"><a href="http://www.citatepedia.com/comments.php?id=508446" style="color:#000;text-decoration:none">Though sixty years have gone,<br> As I look back,<br>I see her rise at dawn,<br> Our boots to black;<br>Pull us from drowsy bed,<br> Wet sponge to pass,<br>And speed us porridge fed<br> To morning class.</a></div><div style="margin:10px 0"><a href="http://www.citatepedia.com/comments.php?id=508446" style="color:#000;text-decoration:none">Our duds to make and mend,<br> Far into night,<br>O'er needle she would spend<br> By bleary light.<br>Yet as her head drooped low,<br> With withered hair,<br>It seemed the candle glow<br> Made halo there.</a></div><div style="margin:10px 0"><a href="http://www.citatepedia.com/comments.php?id=508446" style="color:#000;text-decoration:none">And so with silvered pow<br> I sigh because<br>They don't make women now<br> Like Mammy was.</a></div><div style="margin:10px 0"><br /></a><a href="http://poems.citatepedia.com/">poem</a> by <strong><a rel="author" href="http://authors.citatepedia.com/by.php?a=Robert+William+Service">Robert William Service</a></strong></div>

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