I would rather be the daddy <br /> Of a romping, roguish crew, <br />Of a bright-eyed chubby laddie <br /> And a little girl or two, <br />Than the monarch of a nation <br /> In his high and lofty seat <br />Taking empty adoration <br /> From the subjects at his feet. <br /> <br />I would rather own their kisses <br /> As at night to me they run, <br />Than to be the king who misses <br /> All the simpler forms of fun. <br />When his dreary day is ending <br /> He is dismally alone, <br />But when my sun is descending <br /> There are joys for me to own. <br /> <br />He may ride to horns and drumming; <br /> I must walk a quiet street, <br />But when once they see me coming <br /> Then on joyous, flying feet <br />They come racing to me madly <br /> And I catch them with a swing <br />And I say it proudly, gladly, <br /> That I'm happier than a king. <br /> <br />You may talk of lofty places, <br /> You may boast of pomp and power, <br />Men may turn their eager faces <br /> To the glory of an hour, <br />But give me the humble station <br /> With its joys that long survive, <br />For the daddies of the nation <br /> Are the happiest men alive.<br /><br />Edgar Albert Guest<br /><br />http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/daddies/
