Explore "A Piteous Plaint" by Eugene Field on Textopian. Read with annotations and highlights.
I cannot eat my porridge, / I weary of my play; / No longer can I sleep at night, / No longer romp by day! / Though forty pounds was once my weight, / I'm shy of thirty now; / I pine, I wither and I fade / Through love of Martha Clow.
As she rolled by this morning / I heard the nurse girl say: / "She weighs just twenty-seven pounds / And she's one year old to-day. " / I threw a kiss that nestled / In the curls upon her brow, / But she never turned to thank me -- / That bouncing Martha Clow!