Keep your lamps
trimmed And burning
The end of night is near
Only four more poems,
Music to our ears
Children don’t get weary
Keep your lamps trimmed
and burning
Echoing in my ear
Poetess with pen in hand
Draws near
Children don’t get weary
The finish line we’ll clear
All but the last line? It rings, with wisdom and a voice of some long forgotten sage. But the last line.
Beautiful poem of hope and enthusiasm…last line could be repeated with the first line for the curtains