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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