England is a cosy little country,
Excepting for the draughts along the floor.
And that is why you’re told,
When the passages are cold:
“Darling, you’ve forgot to shut the Door!”
The Awful East Wind blows it—
Pussy on the Hearthrug shows it,
Aunty at the Writing-table knows it—
“Darling, you’ve forgot to shut the Door!”
Shut—shut—shut the Door, my darling!
Always shut the Door behind you, but
You can go when you are old
Where there isn’t any cold—
So there isn’t any Door that need be shut!
And—
The deep Verandah shows it—
The pale Magnolia knows it—
And the bold, white Trumpet-flower blows it:—
There isn’t any Door that need be shut!
Choose another poem
The piping Tree-toad knows it.
The modnight Firefly shows it —
And ther Beams of the Moon disclose it ;–
There isn’t any door that need be shut.
The milky beaches kn ow it =
The silky breezes blow it,
And the shafts of the sunrise show it
There isn’t any Door that needs be shut.