Second Childhood

 When I go on my morning walk,
 Because I'm mild,
If I be in the mood to talk
 I choose a child.
I'd rather prattle with a lass Of tender age Than converse in the high-brow class With college sage.
I love the touch of silken hand That softly clings; In old of age I understand Life's little things.
I love the lisp of tiny tongue And trusting eyes; These are the joys that keep me young As daylight dies.
For as to second childhood I Draw gently near, With happy heart I see the why Children are dear.
So wise Professor, go your way,-- I am beguiled To wistful loving by the gay Laugh of a child.

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