I WAS somewhere off in Europe spending money like a king, <br />Owned a yacht like J. P. Morgan's, when the 'phone began to ring; <br />I was entertaining princes, dukes and earls, when wifie said: <br />'It's the telephone that's ringing, you must hustle out of bed.' <br />And I wandered down the stairway, grumbling o'er my vanished joy, <br />Growled: 'Hello;' and then he shouted: 'You're an uncle! It's a boy!' <br /> <br />I was dazed for half a minute—when you're cruising foreign seas <br />With a lot of royal people, and your sails are full of breeze, <br />And your guests are gaily laughing, and your skies are blue above, <br />The arrival of a baby isn't what you're thinking of; <br />And I hardly knew I'd taken that old 'phone receiver down <br />When excitedly he shouted: 'There's a junior come to town!' <br /> <br />But I traveled back from Europe just as quickly as I could, <br />And left those dukes and princes and I shouted to him: 'Good!' <br />I fired my stylish butlers and I threw my yacht away, <br />In my dollar-blue-pajamas I stood there and cried: 'Hooray!' <br />I quit the king, not caring that my conduct might annoy, <br />And I shouted up to mother: 'Did you hear me? It's a boy!' <br /> <br />When I'm dreaming I am wealthy and with money I am free, <br />There are times I do not welcome folks who telephone to me; <br />But I don't begrudge the finest dream that ever sweetened sleep <br />To one who has such news as that, great news that cannot keep. <br />He may wake me any moment, and my peace it won't destroy, <br />For I'll share his gladness with him, when he tells me: 'It's a boy!'<br /><br />Edgar Albert Guest<br /><br />http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/the-shattered-dream/
