Classic Poem

There may be happier times than this,
But if there are I've never known them,
When youngsters jump in bed to kiss
And wake the pa's and ma's who own them
What if the sun be up or not,
Another perfect day is dawning,
And is it not a happy lot
With such delight to greet the morning?

Sometimes I hear them quit their bed
And catch their bare-foot pitter-patter,
And other times they're at my head
Before I know what is the matter.
Brigands to rob us of our sleep
They come—their weapons love and laughter,
And though we're locked in slumber deep,
They always get the joy they're after.

Some days there are when we would lie
And dream our dreams a little longer,
Then “back to bed awhile,” we cry—
But oh, our love for them is stronger,
Yes, stronger than our wish to sleep,
And so we countermand the order
And let that pair of brigands leap
With wild delight across love's border.

There may be happier times than this,
But if there are I've never known them,
When youngsters jump in bed to kiss
And wake the pa's and ma's who own them.
They miss a lot, the man and wife
Who never feel those glad hands shake them,
Who rise by day to toil and strife,
But have no little tots to wake them.