MY BLUE-EYED BABY BOY.

You ask me why I’m smiling so, When every stock and bond is low; Why my heart seems full, and running o’er with joy. Can’t you guess the reason, say? I am sure ’tis plain as day— I’ve been romping with my blue-eyed baby boy. Though I faint beneath my cares, And my wheat seems full of tares, I can still have fullest peace without alloy; For in the twilight gloam, I shall hasten to my home, And be greeted by my blue-eyed baby boy. Let the morbid fellow groan, In a melancholy tone, Seeing only thorns and thistles that annoy; Missing all the roses nigh, And not once suspecting why— He has never had a blue-eyed baby boy.