Of mornings, bright and early, When the lark is on the wing And the robin in the maple Hops from her nest to sing,
From yonder cheery chamber Cometh a mellow coo — ‘ T is the sweet, persuasive treble Of my little Googly-Goo!
The sunbeams hear his music, And they seek his little bed, And they dance their prettiest dances Round his golden curly head:
Schottisches, galops, minuets, Gavottes and waltzes, too, Dance they unto the music Of my googling Googly-Goo.
My heart — my heart it leapeth To hear that treble tone; What music like thy music, My darling and mine own!
And patiently — yes, cheerfully I toil the long day through — My labor seemeth lightened By the song of Googly-Goo!
I may not see his antics, Nor kiss his dimpled cheek: I may not smooth the tresses The sunbeams love to seek;
It mattereth not — the echo Of his sweet, persuasive coo Recurreth to remind me Of my little Googly-Goo.
And when I come at evening, I stand without the door And patiently I listen For that dear sound once more;
And oftentimes I wonder, “Oh, God! what should I do If any ill should happen To my little Googly-Goo!”
Then in affright I call him — I hear his gleeful shouts! Begone, ye dread forebodings — Begone, ye killing doubts!
For, with my arms about him, My heart warms through and through With the oogling and the googling Of my little Googly-Goo!
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