A noble prince goes riding by
With lordly mien and flashing eye,
While I sit here at my cottage door
Wishing my daily task was o'er.
The tears fall fast and dim my sight,
I feel my life has not been bright.
Why should I have a weary lot,
And be by all the world forgot?
I lift my head as the prince rides past,
My face grows red, my heart beats fast:
The gallant courtier nears the stile,
Leaps from his horse to rest awhile.
He turns toward me with questioning look,
And haughty smile I cannot brook,
Then lifting his hat with courtly air
Murmurs some words 'bout the weather fair.
But what he utters I scarce have heard,
For, just like song of forest bird,
Comes baby's voice, so pure and clear,
Sweetest sound to mother's ear.
Bonnie boy, whose bright blue eyes
Look at me so wondrous wise,
With brow so fair and pure and bold,
Crowned with curls of sunny gold,—
He is the royal prince of my heart,
Of which the stranger has no part,
So let him ride on in the morning sun,
While I sit here till my work is done.