I know he's coming by this sign, That baby's almost wild; See how he laughs and crows and starts โ Heaven, bless the merry child! He's father's self in face and limb, And father's heart is strong in him. Shout, baby, shout! and clap thy hands, For father on the threshold stands.
Mary HowittOld England is our home, and Englishmen are we; Our tongue is known in every clime, our flag in every sea.
Mary HowittTrue delicacy, that most beautiful heart-leaf of humanity, exhibits itself most significantly in little things.
Mary Howitt