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<div style="background:#fff;border:#bbb dashed 1px;padding:5px"><a href="http://www.citatepedia.com/comments.php?id=508909" style="color:#000;text-decoration:none"><div style="margin:10px 0"><strong>Tim</strong></div><div style="margin:10px 0"><a href="http://www.citatepedia.com/comments.php?id=508909" style="color:#000;text-decoration:none">My brother Tim has children ten,<br> While I have none.<br>Maybe that's why he's toiling when<br> To ease I've won.<br>But though I would some of his brood<br> Give hearth and care,<br>I know that not a one he would<br> Have heart to spare.</a></div><div style="margin:10px 0"><a href="http://www.citatepedia.com/comments.php?id=508909" style="color:#000;text-decoration:none">'Tis children that have kept him poor;<br> He's clad them neat.<br>They've never wanted, I am sure,<br> For bite to eat.<br>And though their future may be dim,<br> They laugh a lot.<br>Am I tearful for Brother Tim?<br> Oh no, I'm not.</a></div><div style="margin:10px 0"><a href="http://www.citatepedia.com/comments.php?id=508909" style="color:#000;text-decoration:none">I know he goes to work each day<br> With flagging feet.<br>'Tis hard, even with decent pay,<br> To make ends meet.<br>But when my sterile home I see,<br> So smugly prim,<br>Although my banker bows to me,<br> I envy Tim.</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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