To a Usurper

AHA! a traitor in the camp,A rebel strangely bold,—A lisping, laughing, toddling scamp,Not more than four years old!

To think that I, who've ruled aloneSo proudly in the past,Should be ejected from my throneBy my own son at last!

He trots his treason to and fro,As only babies can,And says he'll be his mamma's beauWhen he's a "great, big man"!

You stingy boy! you've always hadA share in mamma's heart.Would you begrudge your poor old dadThe tiniest little part?

That mamma, I regret to see,Inclines to take your part,—As if a dual monarchyShould rule her gentle heart!

But when the years of youth have sped,The bearded man, I trow,Will quite forget he ever saidHe'd be his mamma's beau.

Renounce your treason, little son,Leave mamma's heart to me;For there will come another oneTo claim your loyalty.

And when that other comes to you,God grant her love may shineThrough all your life, as fair and trueAs mamma's does through mine!