Pioneer Mother
The cows have been milked, the chickens are fed,
The sheep and the oxen are safe in their shed;
On the back of the stove, the coffee is hot,
The corn-mush bubbles and steams in the pot,
The lamp is trimmed and ready to light –
Your father is late in coming tonight.
(Children, listen, hush your prattle –
We might hear the wagon rattle.)
Your father will bring from the County Seat
Stocking and shoes to warm your feet,
A hood of wool to warm my head,
A barrel of meal, and flour, for bread.
(The cellar is full of garden-stuff
But winter is coming and that’s not enough.)
He’ll bring a wagon-load of coal:
When storm winds blow and snow-clouds roll,
Cobs and cow-chips and and twist of hay
Will never keep the cold away.
But best of all, he will not fail
To bring letters from home. He will bring the mail.
Listen, children! Now , I hear
The rattle of wheels and a whistle clear
And loud across the night.
Quick, light the lamp. He must see the light.
The rattling wheels are coming near.
Children! Children! Your father is here!
—Unknown, Prairie Poems