The Khan's Canticles 23
Spring or autumn, never whine,
For your own good name.
Sometimes she '11 be cross and cold,
Never mind, she 's good as gold
Let her have her little scold
And kiss her just the same.
When there 's something wrong with baby
Kiss her ev'ry day,
'Twill help to sooth her worry, may be
Kiss her ev'ry day.
Kiss her when her soul is sad,
Kiss her when her heart is glad ;
Be your fortune good or bad,
Kiss her every day.
poem by Robert Kirkland Kernighan
Added by Poetry Lover
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