To My Grandchild-Teacher, Miss Martha Hoag

At eve my teacher oft is seen,With lifted rule and haughty mien,Intent to drive each knotty truthInto the head of gray-haired youth!

Hard rows of figures I must try,Nor can I pass the grammar by;Th' imperious miss with scornful handBids grandpa mind each stern command!

Her finger points the narrow way,And pupils cannot but obey;Thus I am forced those things to knowI slighted four score years ago!