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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!