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<div style="background:#fff;border:#bbb dashed 1px;padding:5px"><a href="http://en.citatepedia.ro/comments.php?id=374220" style="color:#000;text-decoration:none"><div style="margin:10px 0"><strong>The Things That Matter</strong></div><div style="margin:10px 0">NOW that I've nearly done my days,<br>And grown too stiff to sweep or sew,<br>I sit and think, till I'm amaze,<br>About what lots of things I know:<br>Things as I've found out one by one--<br>And when I'm fast down in the clay,<br>My knowing things and how they're done<br>Will all be lost and thrown away.</div><div style="margin:10px 0">There's things, I know, as won't be lost,<br>Things as folks write and talk about:<br>The way to keep your roots from frost,<br>And how to get your ink spots out.<br>What medicine's good for sores and sprains,<br>What way to salt your butter down,<br>What charms will cure your different pains,<br>And what will bright your faded gown.</div><div style="margin:10px 0">But more important things than these,<br>They can't be written in a book:<br>How fast to boil your greens and peas,<br>And how good bacon ought to look;<br>The feel of real good wearing stuff,<br>The kind of apple as will keep,<br>The look of bread that's rose enough,<br>And how to get a child asleep.</div><div style="margin:10px 0">Whether the jam is fit to pot,<br>Whether the milk is going to turn,<br>Whether a hen will lay or not,<br>Is things as some folks never learn.<br>I know the weather by the sky,<br>I know what herbs grow in what lane;<br>And if sick men are going to die,<br>Or if they'll get about again.</div><div style="margin:10px 0">Young wives come in, a-smiling, grave,<br>With secrets that they itch to tell:<br>I know what sort of times they'll have,<br>And if they'll have a boy or gell.<br>And if a lad is ill to bind,<br>Or some young maid is hard to lead,<br>I know when you should speak 'em kind,<br>And when it's scolding as they need.</div><div style="margin:10px 0">I used to know where birds ud set,<br>And likely spots for trout or hare,<br>And God may want me to forget<br>The way to set a line or snare;<br>But not the way to truss a chick,<br>To fry a fish, or baste a roast,<br>Nor how to tell, when folks are sick,<br>What kind of herb will ease them most!</div><div style="margin:10px 0">Forgetting seems such silly waste!<br>I know so many little things,<br>And now the Angels will make haste<br>To dust it all away with wings!<br>O God, you made me like to know,<br>You kept the things straight in my head,<br>Please God, if you can make it so,<br>Let me know something when I'm dead.</div><div style="margin:10px 0"><br /></a><br />poem by <a href="http://en.citatepedia.ro/by.php?a=Edith+Nesbit">Edith Nesbit</a><div class=q>
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<script type="text/javascript" src="//s7.addthis.com/js/300/addthis_widget.js#pubid=citatepedia" async="async"></script><div style="display:inline-block" class="addthis_sharing_toolbox" data-url="http://en.citatepedia.ro/comments.php?id=374220" data-title="The Things That Matter de Edith Nesbit" data-description="NOW that I've nearly done my days,
And grown too stiff to sweep or sew,
I sit and think, till I'm amaze,
About what lots of things I know:
Things as I've found out one by one--
And when I'm fast down in the clay,
My knowing things and how they're ..."></div>
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