Poems (Welby)/The Little Step-Son
THE LITTLE STEP-SON.
I have a little step-son, the loveliest thing alive;
A noble sturdy boy is he, and yet he's only five;
His smooth cheek hath a blooming glow, his eyes are black as jet,
And his lips are like two rose-buds, all tremulous and wet;
His days pass off in sunshine, in laughter, and in song,
As careless as a summer rill, that sings itself along;
For like a pretty fairy tale, that's all too quickly told,
Is the young life of a little one, that's only five years old.
A noble sturdy boy is he, and yet he's only five;
His smooth cheek hath a blooming glow, his eyes are black as jet,
And his lips are like two rose-buds, all tremulous and wet;
His days pass off in sunshine, in laughter, and in song,
As careless as a summer rill, that sings itself along;
For like a pretty fairy tale, that's all too quickly told,
Is the young life of a little one, that's only five years old.
He's dreaming on his happy couch, before the day grows dark.
He's up with morning's rosy ray a-singing with the lark;
Where'er the flowers are freshest, where'er the grass is green,
With light locks waving on the wind his fairy form is seen,
Amid the whistling March winds, amid the April showers;
He warbles with the singing birds and blossoms with the flowers;
He cares not for the summer heat, he cares not for the cold—
My sturdy little step-son, that's only five years old.
He's up with morning's rosy ray a-singing with the lark;
Where'er the flowers are freshest, where'er the grass is green,
With light locks waving on the wind his fairy form is seen,
Amid the whistling March winds, amid the April showers;
He warbles with the singing birds and blossoms with the flowers;
He cares not for the summer heat, he cares not for the cold—
My sturdy little step-son, that's only five years old.
How touching 't is to see him clasp his dimpled hands in prayer,
And raise his little rosy face with reverential air!
How simple is his eloquence! how soft his accents fall
When pleading, with the King of kings to love and bless us all;
And when from prayer he bounds away in innocence and joy,
The blessing of a smiling God goes with the sinless boy;
A little lambkin of the flock, within the Savior's fold,
Is he my lovely step-son, that's only five years old.
And raise his little rosy face with reverential air!
How simple is his eloquence! how soft his accents fall
When pleading, with the King of kings to love and bless us all;
And when from prayer he bounds away in innocence and joy,
The blessing of a smiling God goes with the sinless boy;
A little lambkin of the flock, within the Savior's fold,
Is he my lovely step-son, that's only five years old.
I have not told you of our home, that in the summer hours,
Stands in its simple modesty half hid among the flowers;
I have not said a single word about our mines of wealth—
Our treasures are this little boy, contentment, peace and health;
For even a lordly hall to us would be a voiceless place
Without the gush of his glad voice, the gleams of his bright face:
And many a courtly pair, I ween, would give their gems and gold
For a noble happy boy like ours, some four or five years old.
Stands in its simple modesty half hid among the flowers;
I have not said a single word about our mines of wealth—
Our treasures are this little boy, contentment, peace and health;
For even a lordly hall to us would be a voiceless place
Without the gush of his glad voice, the gleams of his bright face:
And many a courtly pair, I ween, would give their gems and gold
For a noble happy boy like ours, some four or five years old.