The smiling parents watch their sportive play,
Well pleased to see their darling boy so gay;
The mother whispers in her husband’s ear,
“Is he not beautiful?” she says, “my dear!”
“He is a noble boy,” he quick replies,
“O, long may he be spared to bless our eyes!
“But see! thy mute guitar neglected stands;
“Come, dearest, take it in thy willing hands,
“And sing to me one of thine own sweet songs,
“Surely the need of song to thee belongs.”