IT isn’t the blue in the skies,
Nor the song of the whispering trees,
The light in a fair maiden’s eyes,
My joy is far greater than these;
You will pardon my arrogance please,
And forgive the wide bulge in my brow,
My hand I’ll permit you to seize,
There’s another to welcome me now.
Naught to me are political cries,
Or Teddy’s or Taft’s policies;
The charges of fraud or of lies,
Or Wilson’s big stock of degrees.
Pinning blankets, long dresses, boot-ees
This morning are all I allow
In my thoughts, both at work and at ease,
There’s another to welcome me now.
‘With a smile on my face I arise,
And beg for permission to squeeze
The wee little hand that I prize,
And I wonder if daddy he sees.
The world with its mountains and seas
Is a mighty big place, but I vow,
The whole world is here at my knees,
There’s another to welcome me now.
Prince, at your pleasures I sneeze,
You to riches and glory may bow,
But my joy is greater than these,
There’s another to welcome me now.
