The espalier | Project Gutenberg

THE ONLY CHILD

When I was small

My mother had an Indian shawl,

Spun from the friendliest kind of goat

And dyed a comfortable red.

And when I had a pain in my throat

I used to take the shawl to bed.

So soft it was

That through her wedding-ring ’twould pass;

So warm, it nursed all care aside;

So wide, a covey of babes might be

Happed up in it—soft, warm and wide

As sleep, that shawl was lent to me.