I bought my little grandchild Ann <br /> A bright balloon, <br />And I was such a happy man <br /> To hear her croon. <br />She laughed and babbled with delight, <br /> So gold its glow, <br />As by a thread she held it tight, <br /> Then--let it go. <br /> <br />As if it gloried to be free <br /> It climbed the sky; <br />But oh how sorrowful was she, <br /> And sad was I! <br />And when at eve with sobbing cry <br /> She saw the moon, <br />She pleaded to the pensive sky <br /> For her balloon. <br /> <br />O Little One, I pray that you <br /> In years to be, <br />Will hold a tiny baby too, <br /> And know its glee; <br />That yours will always be the thrill <br /> And joy of June, <br />And that you never, never will <br /> Cry for the moon.<br /><br />Robert William Service<br /><br />http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/balloon/
