Mother has had a heap of praise And she deserves it, goodness knows; But it is seldom that we gaze On any poetry—or prose That speaks of Dad, so I propose To make the Old Man's spirit glad By slipping him his due. Here goes, I sing a little song to Dad! Throughout his life he spends the days In earning cash to pay for hose And shoes and suits and rent; he pays And pays and pays, yet seldom shows Impatience as his burden grows; He keeps us housed and fed and clad, In summer's heat, in winter's snows, —I sing a little song to Dad! He understands our little ways He sympathizes with our woes, Our schemes he aids, our games he plays, And deep within his heart there glows A love he doesn't much disclose, But which outlasts good times and bad Withstanding all fate's stoutest blows; I sing a little song to Dad! ENVOY It's seldom any one bestows The praise that Father should have had, But—here's the debt that one man owes, I sing a little song to Dad! | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...THE WANDERER: 2. IN FRANCE: THE CHESSBOARD by EDWARD ROBERT BULWER-LYTTON KUBLA KHAN by SAMUEL TAYLOR COLERIDGE THE BIGLOW PAPERS. 2D SERIES: 2. JONATHAN TO JOHN by JAMES RUSSELL LOWELL TEARS by LIZETTE WOODWORTH REESE SONNET: A PREACHER by THOMAS BAILEY ALDRICH |