It's 1832

And I am nine

This is my house.

 

I'm sitting by the fire

But I am cold.

My clothes itch me.

And I have to do my sampler.

 

Here are the windows of my house.

And there are flowers in the garden

But I don’t know what they are called.

This is my house.

 

My mother died.

But we don’t talk of her.

This is my house

And it is 1832.

 

My father is so kind

He’s always good to me

It’s 1832

This is my house.

 

My bedroom gets so cold.

My nightdress itches me.

It’s 1832

And father visits me.

 

I’m so alone.

My pillow gets so wet.

It’s 1832

And I embroider

My sampler.

 

This is my house.