Too tired to sleep, in bed I lay,
I’d think how nice when, children grown,
My time again should be my own.
So now I sit and rock alone,
My hands at rest, the work all done;
No little tots upon the floor,
No fingerprints upon the door.
No socks to mend, bruises to kiss
Ah me! How could I know I’d miss
The very things I grudged to do
Dear God, if only there might be
Someone again who needed me!