MY little boy, thy laughter <br /> Goes to my bosom core, <br />And sends me yearning after <br /> The days that are no more. <br /> <br />Adown my cheek is stealing <br /> A briny tear, and I— <br />But let no selfish feeling <br /> Thy infant mirth destroy. <br /> <br />Fill not with looks so earnest, <br /> Those pretty eyes of thine; <br />A lot were thine the sternest, <br /> Couldst thou my thought divine. <br /> <br />There's time enough for sorrow, <br /> When Life's pale eve draws near; <br />The lark lilts thee Good Morrow <br /> Ring out thy laughter clear!<br /><br />Joseph Skipsey<br /><br />http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/my-little-boy-8/
