I've learned that joys are fleeting things; that parting pain each meeting brings; That gain and loss are partners here, and so are smiles and tears; That only boys from day to day can drain and fill the cup of play; That age must mourn for what is lost throughout the coming years. But boys cannot appreciate their priceless joy until too late And those who own the charms I had will soon be changed to men; And then, they too will sit, as I, and backward turn to look and sigh And share my longing, vain, to be a care-free boy again. {18} WHAT A BABY COSTS "How much do babies cost?" said he The other night upon my knee; And then I said: "They cost a lot; A lot of watching by a cot, A lot of sleepless hours and care, A lot of heart-ache and despair, A lot of fear and trying dread, And sometimes many tears are shed In payment for our babies small, But every one is worth it all. "For babies people have to pay A heavy price from day to day-- There is no way to get one cheap. Why, sometimes when they're fast asleep You have to get up in the night And go and see that they're all right. But what they cost in constant care And worry, does not half compare With what they bring of joy and bliss-- You'd pay much more for just a kiss. "Who buys a baby has to pay A portion of the bill each day; He has to give his time and thought Unto the little one he's bought. He has to stand a lot of pain Inside his heart and not complain; And pay with lonely days and sad For all the happy hours he's had. All this a baby costs, and yet His smile is worth it all, you bet." {19} MOTHER Never a sigh for the cares that she bore for me Never a thought of the joys that flew by; Her one regret that she couldn't do more for me, Thoughtless and selfish, her Master was I. Oh, the long nights that she came at my call to me! Oh, the soft touch of her hands on my brow! Oh, the long years that she gave up her all to me! Oh, how I yearn for her gentleness now! Slave to her baby! Yes, that was the way of her, Counting her greatest of services small; Words cannot tell what this old heart would say of her, Mother--the sweetest and fairest of all. {20} SELFISH I am selfish in my wishin' every sort o' joy for you; I am selfish when I tell you that I'm wishin' skies o' blue Bending o'er you every minute, and a pocketful of gold, An' as much of love an' gladness as a human heart can hold. Coz I know beyond all question that if such a thing could be As you cornerin' life's riches you would share 'em all with me.