OCR Text |
Show l!lersen It should be hers the newly born. Nay, shudder not! I should bestow it So brimming full she could n't blow it. Wishes aren't horses : true, but still There are worse roadsters than goodwill. And so I wish my darling health, And just to round my couplet, wealth, With faith enough to bridge the chasm 'Twixt Genesis and Protoplasm, And bear her o'er life's current vext From this world to a better next, Where the full glow of God puts out Poor reason's farthing candle, Doubt. I've wished her healthy, wealthy, wise, But since there's room for countless wishes In these old-fashioned posset dishes, I 'II wish her from my plenteous store Of those commodities two more, Her father's wit, veined through and through With tenderness that Watts (but whew! 39 |