Page:Collected poems vol 2 de la mare.djvu/114

 OOR tired Tim! It's sad for him. He lags the long bright morning through, Ever so tired of nothing to do; He moons and mopes the livelong day, Nothing to think about, nothing to say; Up to bed with his candle to creep, Too tired to yawn, too tired to sleep: Poor tired Tim! It's sad for him.