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There is wind where the rose was,
Cold rain where sweet grass was,
And clouds like sheep
Stream o'er the steep
Grey skies where the lark was.
Nought warm where your hand was,
Nought gold where your hair was,
But phantom, forlorn,
Beneath the thorn,
Your ghost where your face was.
Cold wind where your voice was,
Tears, tears where my heart was,
And ever with me,
Child, ever with me,
Silence where hope was.
November by Walter de la Mare
I'm sure lots of us have done many different jobs before getting to our present one - or maybe you're still trying to climb the ladder in order to get to where you want to be.
But what was your very first job, and what did you think about it?
Mine was delivering newspapers, and I enjoyed it. It allowed me to do plenty of exercise, and I got paid - which was great because I was only 13 when I started delivering them.
What was your first job?