MY BLUE-EYED BABY BOY.

You ask me why I’m smiling so,When every stock and bond is low;Why my heart seems full, and running o’er with joy.Can’t you guess the reason, say?I am sure ’tis plain as day—I’ve been romping with my blue-eyed baby boy.Though I faint beneath my cares,And my wheat seems full of tares,I can still have fullest peace without alloy;For in the twilight gloam,I shall hasten to my home,And be greeted by my blue-eyed baby boy.Let the morbid fellow groan,In a melancholy tone,Seeing only thorns and thistles that annoy;Missing all the roses nigh,And not once suspecting why—He has never had a blue-eyed baby boy.

You ask me why I’m smiling so,

When every stock and bond is low;

Why my heart seems full, and running o’er with joy.

Can’t you guess the reason, say?

I am sure ’tis plain as day—

I’ve been romping with my blue-eyed baby boy.

Though I faint beneath my cares,And my wheat seems full of tares,I can still have fullest peace without alloy;For in the twilight gloam,I shall hasten to my home,And be greeted by my blue-eyed baby boy.

Though I faint beneath my cares,

And my wheat seems full of tares,

I can still have fullest peace without alloy;

For in the twilight gloam,

I shall hasten to my home,

And be greeted by my blue-eyed baby boy.

Let the morbid fellow groan,In a melancholy tone,Seeing only thorns and thistles that annoy;Missing all the roses nigh,And not once suspecting why—He has never had a blue-eyed baby boy.

Let the morbid fellow groan,

In a melancholy tone,

Seeing only thorns and thistles that annoy;

Missing all the roses nigh,

And not once suspecting why—

He has never had a blue-eyed baby boy.

—Ellen Brannan Tawney.

The Nursery Express.

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