Page:Field Poems of Childhood.djvu/143

 And sweetest are those moments

My darling comes to climb

Into my lap to mind me

That it is kissing time.

Sometimes, maybe, he wanders

A heedless, aimless way—

Sometimes, maybe, he loiters

In pretty, prattling play;

But presently bethinks him

And hastens to me then,

For it's half-past kissing time

And time to kiss again!