Of all the changes back at home, One thought keeps surging to and fro— It seems so very, very strange That baby sister has a beau. Although the world is like a dream, And years like shadows come and go, It does seem hardly possible That little Mabe can have a beau. It makes me think I'm getting old, For I was grown you know When I was teaching her to spell— And now they say she has a beau! I hear a lisping toddler say, "Where you goes I wants to go"— With bib and blocks and fuzzy head, She didn't know the name of "beau." But while the days have slipped away The child's had time enough to grow— She's seventeen, and tall and fair— Why yes, of course, she has a beau! But while I smile to think of it, 'Tis serious too, because I know That heartaches often follow on, When girls begin to have a beau. | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...I HEARD YOUR SOLEMN-SWEET PIPES by WALT WHITMAN MY FRIEND by JOHANNA AMBROSIUS THE TEMPTATION OF OUR LORD: BALEUS PROLOCUTOR by JOHN BALE SOMEBODY'S MOTHER by MARY DOW BRINE PRIVATE DEVOTION by PHOEBE HINSDALE BROWN THE PAST by WILLIAM CULLEN BRYANT ON A HILL-TOP by AMELIA JOSEPHINE BURR MEDITATIONS FOR EVERY DAY IN PASSION WEEK: MONDAY by JOHN BYROM |