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Full Online Book HomePoemsTo Alfred, Just Learning To Walk
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To Alfred, Just Learning To Walk Post by :magicmalcolm Category :Poems Author :Thomas Cowherd Date :October 2011 Read :1367

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To Alfred, Just Learning To Walk

O, Alfred dear, thou wilt, I fear,
Get burned before 'tis long;
Thy little tricks with fiery sticks
Have called forth this my song.

That roguish eye seems to defy
All I can say or do.
Thy chubby face does not disgrace
The food thou art used to.

Come now, my boy, thy skill employ
In walking to Papa;
Well, now, my child, I own I smiled
To see thee choose thy Ma.

But still I will that thou fulfill
My just commands to thee;
Sometime I shall soon make thee squall
For disobeying me!

And now a walk or else some talk
I do insist upon;
But mind that chair or thou wilt fare
Not cry well, my son!

Thy limbs are strong, so don't be long,
Nor mind that little mountain;
Ah, down he goes! and out there flows
Big tear-drops from their fountain.

Fear not, my son, thou hast well done;
I'll wipe thy tears away,
And lie in hopes on Life's rough slopes
Thou wilt not go astray.

Now come again, I can't refrain
From tuning one more trial;
Don't stagger on so woe-begone,
But use some self-denial.

Thou wilt have need if thou succeed
In life, to use it often,
And I have found in moving round
It does life's trials soften.

Mind thou the stove! nor further rove,
For fear thou get a burning
Let not thine eyes in such surprise
Upon thy Pa be turning.

See, there at last thou hast got past
The dangers which beset thee,
So in my arms, proud of thy charms,
I'll hug thee if thou let me.

I fain would hope that thou wilt cope
With ills besetting mortals,
Depending on God's Arm alone,
And so reach Heaven's portals.


(The end)
Thomas Cowherd's poem: To Alfred, Just Learning To Walk

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To Amelia, My Last Infant Daughter To Amelia, My Last Infant Daughter

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On the fifth of chill November Came my Amie unto me,Adding one more lovely member To my numerous family.Daughter, thou art welcome truly To the care we can bestow;May we do our duty duly While we stay with thee below.Think not, daughter, we will slight thee, Since so many claim our love;Gladly--wish we to delight thee, As we look for help Above.Thou art to us, little charmer, Dear as any child we own;And our love to each grows warmer For the sorrows we have known.Take then, daughter, take our blessing, It comes

To My Dear Little Boys, James, Christopher And Alfred To My Dear Little Boys, James, Christopher And Alfred

To My Dear Little Boys, James, Christopher And Alfred
Three lovely boys who bear my name,Have all upon me equal claim,And seem to ask a rhyme from me--A humble poet as you see.James, Christopher and Alfred, dear,You often do my spirit cheer,Each in his own most charming way,From hour to hour, from day to day.James by his often tuneful mood,And other things best understoodBy a fond parent, at the time,To he as sweet as music's chime.In him, though young, my eye can traceA something in his pretty faceWhich shows strong passion lurks withinThat childish breast--the fruit of sin.I also think I truly seeA trait somewhat too miserly.I may be wrong--I