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...THE FIRST VOYAGE OF JOHN CABOT [1497] by KATHARINE LEE BATES THE DIRGE [FOR FIDELE], FR. CYMBELINE by WILLIAM SHAKESPEARE THE HORSE THIEF by WILLIAM ROSE BENET ON THE WAY TO CHURCH by WILFRID SCAWEN BLUNT PASSING HOURS by HELENA A. BOOTH EPITAPH ON LEVI LINCOLN THAXTER; INSCRIBED ON A ROCK ABOVE THE GRAVE by ROBERT BROWNING THE RANTIN DOG THE DADDIE O'T by ROBERT BURNS |