Tablecloths

Some people when they sit to eat
Prefer to see the table neat.
They want the linen spotless white,
The glasses dazzling in the light,
The silverware in trim array.
But, as for me, I often say
Give me glad childhood's table-cloth
With stained with jelly, milk and broth.

Not long in peace could I abide
In houses cold with pomp and pride,
Or dwell where dignity commands
Precision's care from little hands.
I much prefer the happier place
Illumined by a smiling face,
The dining room, where soon I know
A glass of milk will over go.