Here's another great offering from Eugene Field:
Aha! a traitor in the camp,
A rebel strangely bold,-
A lisping, laughing toddling scamp,
Not more than four years old!
To think that I, who've ruled alone
So proudly in the past,
Should be ejected from my throne
By my own son at last!
He trots his treason to and fro,
As only babies can,
And says he'll be his mamma's beau
When he's a "gweat, big man"!
You stingy boy! you've always had
A share in mamma's heart.
Would you begrudge your poor old dad
The tiniest little part?
That mamma, I regret to see,
Inclines to take your part,-
As if a dual monarchy
Should rule her gentle heart!
But when the years of youth have sped,
The bearded man, I trow,
Will quite forget he ever said
He'd be his mamma's beau.
Renounce your treason, little son,
Leave mamma's heart to me;
For there will come another one
To claim your loyalty.
And when that other comes to you,
God grant her love may shine
Through all your life, as fair and true
As mamma's does through mine!
2 comments:
That is such a sweet poem! Especially to a mama of many boys who said that they wanted to marry me:)when they were little.
Hey, I did some research on Mr. Field. His mother died when he was 5 and he was raised by relatives in the east. He married and had 8 or 5 children depending on which site you read. I hope they get it right when someone researches me.
That is really sweet. Just this week I asked my two year old if he would be mine forever...he responded with a hearty, self-sure, two year old, "NO!" (at least he's honest.).
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