In the year of ninety-one,
My first mother love was kindled,
For to us was born a son.
Big blue eyes so full of lovelight,
Tiny hands and downy head,
Then I'd take him up and love him,
Tuck him in his little bed.
Time long past his tiny footsteps,
Toddling up and down the room,
Chasing all my care and sadness
From my heart as doth a broom;
Chase the dust and giving cleanness,
Sorrow chased away instead;
He was all my joy and comfort,
Little tot with curly head.
In the Years to come was given
Other babes to bless our home,
And our heartstrings oft were riven
As to distant lands they'd roam.
For those years have now departed,
Childish voices all have fled,
In our arms again we'd clasp them,
Tuck them in their little bed.
Charley now has left our hearthstone,
In a bank he's the cashier,
Has a wife and darling baby,
Rosemary their hearts hold dear.
She's a little darling dumpling,
Lovelight o'er their home has shed
Pulls his hair his shirt-front rumpling,
Then he tucks her into bed.
__Nettie Squire Sutton.
A Book of Poems
Nettie Squire Sutton
(Minneapolis, KS: Messenger Press. n.d.)