The infant at home
Unable to roam,
And enter in the fields of strife,
Drops on hands and knees,
In--go as you please,
And starts in the gallop of life.
He often is dumped
And severely bumped,
When he is learning how to walk;
But he keeps trying,
Even while crying,
Until able to tread the chalk.
Next he tries talking,
While still or walking,
And coins words not used in the past;
But keeps on gaining,
Without much training,
And really gets on quite fast.
He’ll soon be at school
And breaking the rule,
Which never is fit till it’s broke;
’Tis always too tight,
For boys that do right,
And hangs on their neck like a yoke.
At Sunday School next,
He watches the text,
And the lesson that’s given out;
The teachers are kind,
And easy to mind,
And of Christ he learns much about.
He’s now a strong boy,
And with shouts of joy
He becomes a player of ball;
He knows where he’s at,
Soon learns how to bat,
And seldom is caught in a fall.
He wants a pony
To be his crony,
And to carry him on its back;
He masters his horse,
And shows no remorse,
When he hits his pony a whack.
He loves the water,
Dives like an otter,
And swims with the grace of a seal;
He flounders and flops,
And finally stops,
With skin slippery as an eel.
He now wants a boat
To sail and to float,
And thinks he could manage a ship;
He bends too much sail.
Is dumped o’er the rail,
And may be ship-wrecked the first trip.
He has ambition,
And disposition,
To tackle everything men do;
What he lacks in skill,
Is made up with will,
And he always finds a way thru.
He is now of age,
And tho not a sage,
Is a full fledged American;
Is proud of the fact,
And ready to act,
And to do all the good he can.
He votes and would fight
For justice and right,
And manfully freedom defend:
No traitor is he,
And never will be,
His country can on him depend.
When in politics,
He despises tricks,
And sets an example to all:
He’s right in the swim,
Has courage and vim,
And wins without doing things small.
In war a hero,
When cold as zero,
Or hot as the entrance to hell;
Never stops to think,
Nor halts at the brink,
But bravely does his duty well.
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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