GEORG EGHOLM

Blessings on thee, little man,

Barefoot boy, with cheek of tan!

With thy turned-up pantaloons,

And thy merry whistled tunes;

With thy red lip, redder still.

Kissed by strawberries on the hill;

With the sunshine on thy face,

Through thy torn brim‘s jaunty grace;

From my heart I give thee joy,

I was once a barefoot boy!

–WHITTIER