Page:Poems PiattVol2.djvu/17

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THE MASTER OF THE HOUSE.
This is the Master, who but he—
(Where did you think to find him?)—
Here in the cradle. Come and see.
———Why, surely we have to mind him!

Wait; you must be as still as death:
He is sleeping now so sweetly.
One hasn't the right to draw one's breath
Till he is awake completely.

Should he want the wedding-ring from her hand,
(No matter if he would lose it)
There is not a lady in all the land
Could have the heart to refuse it.

Should he choose to reach for a crown, I say,
(It is gold, and he could not break it,)
Why, is there a king in the world to-day
Who would not let him take it?

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