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Blowing Bubbles
Of all the things that babies love
To help them in their troubles,
There's nothing in the world, they think,
So nice as blowing bubbles.
To dip the pipe among the suds
And then to gravely blow,
To watch the lovely colours change,
As fast the bubbles grow.
To throw them softly in the air
And see them sail away,
Is fun enough, for girl or boy,
To fill the longest day.
Sweet children of our tender love,
May all life's bubbles be
As bright, with tints of rosy hope,
As these which now we see. |
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