 | A little book of tribune verse |  |
32
BABY BOBBY.
I know a house so full of noise,You'd think a regiment of boys,
From early morn till close of day,
Were busy with their romping play,
And yet, I'm ready to declare,
There is but one small youngster there.
A little, golden headed chap,
Who used to think his mother's lap
The nicest place that e'er could be
Until he grew so big that he
Was 'most a man, and learned what fun
It is to shout, and jump and run.
This restless, noisy little elf
Has learned, alas! to think himself
Too old in mother's arms to sleep;
Yet his blue eyes he cannot keep
From hiding 'neath their lids so white
And, climbing on the sofa's height,
He snuggles down, forgets his play
And into dreamland sails away;
And then it is that mamma knows
Why the whole house so silent grows.
October 13th, 1881.
| A little book of tribune verse | |