Friday, December 4, 2009
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The Barefoot Boy
John Greenleaf Whittier
BLESSINGS on thee, little man,
Barefoot boy, with cheek of tan!
With thy turned-up pantaloons,
And thy merry whistled tunes;
With thy red lip, redder still
Kissed by strawberries on the hill;
With the sunshine on thy face,
Through thy torn brim’s jaunty grace;
From my heart I give thee joy,—
I was once a barefoot boy!
Prince thou art,—the grown-up man
Only is republican.
Let the million-dollared ride!
Barefoot, trudging at his side,
Thou hast more than he can buy
In the reach of ear and eye,—
Outward sunshine, inward joy:
Blessings on thee, barefoot boy!
BLESSINGS on thee, little man,
Barefoot boy, with cheek of tan!
With thy turned-up pantaloons,
And thy merry whistled tunes;
With thy red lip, redder still
Kissed by strawberries on the hill;
With the sunshine on thy face,
Through thy torn brim’s jaunty grace;
From my heart I give thee joy,—
I was once a barefoot boy!
Prince thou art,—the grown-up man
Only is republican.
Let the million-dollared ride!
Barefoot, trudging at his side,
Thou hast more than he can buy
In the reach of ear and eye,—
Outward sunshine, inward joy:
Blessings on thee, barefoot boy!
2 comments:
OK. I had to read that a bunch of times to understand it. At first I thought you were serious. And I thought, "I thought I knew most of her traditions..."
Then I thought, "Wasn't she cold in a tank top?"
A few days later I checked your blog for something new, and read it again. So I think you had record-breaking weather that day, didn't you? About 65-70 degrees? Which explains the tank top. And the hike. And the hour-long playtime in the yard.
And that's right - you have been known to use sarcasm from time to time.
So, ok then. I hope you enjoyed this story.
Amy is much like me. We will wear tank tops long after most people put theirs away. I actually wear them year round. My thinking is LAYERS. I can wear a sweater or a coat if need be. But I love tanks. I love having my arms free.
I could be wrong, but I think this is just Amy's way of telling winter to screw off.
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