I cannot but help to wonder
What it is that others ponder,
Whilst they daydream in class.
Think them of a magical scene;
Of lollipops filled with cream,
Or fireflies set aglow?
Think them of times of old,
Of better thing done and told,
Or the latest bird on the block?
Have they no reason or fear
Of the teacher who does peer
So intently at their countenance,
Whilst their minds are occupied
And justly so are tied
In thoughts abroad?
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