THE BOY ON FIRST by DOUGLAS MALLOCH

Forgive me, folks, if I am proud
And hold my head above the crowd
And act as if I'm satisfied
With me myself, the man inside.
It isn't that at all, at all;
But see that boy who caught the ball
And touched the bag and made an out?
Well, that's what I am proud about,
That's why I'm proud enough to burst;
For that's my youngster playing first.

There's pride and pride, and one's the kind
That ordinarily you find,
When someone's proud of him himself,
His job, his title, or his pelf.
And yet the only pride worth while,
To give you joy and make you smile,
Is when it's someone that you love,
It's someone else, you're proudest of --
A boy on first who bears your name,
And loves his dad, and plays the game.

A man must scrimp a hundred ways
To raise a family these days;
But he can work and he can win,
Work day and night and work like sin,
If he can have, to make him glad,
A boy he's proud of, lucky dad!
And boys, you boys, remember that --
That's what he's working for, and at:
Just be the boy at school, at play,
Your dad is proud of every day.

Classic and Contemporary Poetry

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