HURRAH for the bouncer, exactly fourteen;
The blithest old schoolboy that ever was seen,
Hurrah for the Harry who went by, this way,
Last Valentine's eve, _thirteen_ and a day!
There was Harry, aged _twelve_, I remember him well
A hawk from a hernshaw he always could tell;
And Harry, _eleven_--ah! how he would fiddle
And scrape with his bow from the end to the middle.
Then the bold boy of _ten_ that my Harry appeared,
A few years ago, when the war-mists were cleared;
A chubby young fellow he flourished at _nine_,
A right chubby fellow, this Harry of mine.
At _eight_ he was slender; at _seven_, quite fat;
At _six_ he was saucy--depend upon that!
At _five_ he put on his first trowsers and jacket;
At _four_ who could match him for making a racket?
At _three_ the young rascal was always in trouble;
At _two_ he was teething (his front teeth, and double);
At _one_ he was precious and something to carry,
And the year before that there was never a Harry!
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