Childhood Is Royalty
By BLYE JORDAN
"You be king, and I'll be queen!"
A lady and her lord!
Oh, give them crowns of the arnica-bloom,
And scepters of goldenrod!
"Forty young dukes a-roaming,"
Beside the cedar-hedge;
Each maid is dressed to look her best,
For they've come for a bridal pledge.
"London Bridge is falling down!"
Games of childhood, these;
And each "fair lady" wears a gown
Some gallant knight to please.
'Tis a birthday-party on the law,
A rainbow company
Of shimmering frocks, like hollyhocks,
Or the robes of royalty.
Frocks that vie with summer sky,
Broidered and frilled like a flower.
Flutings of lace, their dainty grace
Costing many a busy hour.
For mothers are willing and worshipful slaves.
Who with hand and heart and head,
Toil with hook adn needlework-book,
Shuttle and scissors and thread.
"See my new dress! Look, Mary and Bess -
The present that mother gave!"
And the beaming pride of the gay young queen
Is ample reward for the slave!