POETRY: A Parental Ode to My Son, aged three years and five months, by Thomas Hood

February 6, 2013

Thou happy, happy elf! (But stop,—first let me kiss away that tear!) Thou tiny image of myself! (My love, he’s 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! he’ll tumble down the stair!) Thou darling of thy sire! (Why, Jane, he’ll set his pinafore afire!) Thou imp of mirth and joy! In Love’s 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 [...]