Mama's Dirl(s)

This poem was originally published in the book Heart Throbs: The Old Scrapbook, which was published in 1905. I am fortunate enough to have the copy my great-grandmother read and marked with care. This poem was one of my favorites long before I had daughters of my own, and now, its place in my heart is even more dear.

MAMMA'S DIRL

 

Ev'ry night when shadows fly,

And the housework is put by,

And, shut-eyed, I sit and dream

Of the light on some far stream,

Of the blooms I used to know

In some field of long ago,

Then I wonder wearily

If the present holds for me

Half the joys of other days,

Half the gladness of old ways,

And sometimes my eyes are wet

With a half-forgot regret;

Then comes romping in to me

And up-clambers on my knee

Such a blue-eyed, laughing sprite,

And puts weariness to flight;

Such as makes the present seem,

More than yesterday, a dream

Of sweet things; and so I smile

O'er regrets of otherwhile,

And she says, and twists a curl:

"I am mamma's baby dirl!"

And the while I bless my lot,

Whispers: "Mamma had fordot!"

I had not forgot, ah, no!

Memory will sometime go

Down the ways we used to tread;

Ways with wondrous blossoms spread.

It is not that we regret

These old ways we don't forget,

It is just that laughter rang,

Just that lilting wild birds sang

O'er those ways of yesteryear

That still makes their mem'ry dear.

But I'm happier today

Than I was down any way

That my young feet used to tread;

Skies are bluer overhead,

And today's birds sing more clear

Than did birds of yesteryear;

I have got you by my side,

Bonny-haired and wonder-eyed,

You who clamber to my knee,

You whose laugh is full of glee,
And I'm happy? Happy, yes!

Glad for ev'ry sweet caress,

For each dimpling smile and curl!

Thankful for my "baby dirl."

-- J. M. Lewis