Thou happy, happy elf! (But stop, - first let me kiss away that tear!) Thou tiny image of myself! (My love, hes poking peas into his ear!) Thou merry, laughing sprite, With spirits feather-light, Untouched by sorrow, and unsoiled by sin, - (My dear, the child is swallowing a pin!) Thou little tricksy Puck! With antic toys so funnily bestuck, Light as the singing bird that wings the air, - (The door! the door! hell tumble down the stair!) Thou darling of thy sire! (Why, Jane, hell set his pinafore afire!) Thou imp of mirth and joy! In Loves dear chain so strong and bright a link, Thou idol of thy parents, - (Drat the boy! There goes my ink!) Thou cherub, - but of earth; Fit playfellow for Fays, by moonlight pale, In harmless sport and mirth, (That dog will bite him, if he pulls its tail!) Thou human humming-bee, extracting honey From every blossom in the world that blows, Singing in youths Elysium ever sunny. - (Another tumble! Thats his precious nose!) Thy fathers pride and hope! (Hell break the mirror with that skipping-rope!) With pure heart newly stamped from natures mint, (Where did he learn that squint?) Thou young domestic dove! (Hell have that jug off with another shove!) Dear nursling of the hymeneal nest! (Are these torn clothes his best?) Little epitome of man! (Hell climb upon the table, thats his plan!) Touched with the beauteous tints of dawning life, - (Hes got a knife!) Thou enviable being! No storms, no clouds, in thy blue sky foreseeing, Play on, play on, My elfin John! Toss the light ball, bestride the stick, - (I knew so many cakes would make him sick!) With fancies, buoyant as the thistle-down, Prompting the face grotesque, and antic brisk, With many a lamb-like frisk! (Hes got the scissors, snipping at your gown!) Thou pretty opening rose! (Go to your mother, child, and wipe your nose!) Balmy and breathing music like the South, - (He really brings my heart into my mouth!) Fresh as the morn, and brilliant as its star, - (I wish that window had an iron bar!) Bold as the hawk, yet gentle as the dove; - (Ill tell you what, my love, I cannot write unless hes sent above.)
Posted on: Fri, 18 Oct 2013 08:54:01 +0000
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