Tommy Smith

Dimple-cheeked and rosy-lipped,      With his cap-rim backward tipped,      Still in fancy I can see      Little Tommy smile on me -         Little Tommy Smith.      Little unsung Tommy Smith -      Scarce a name to rhyme it with;      Yet most tenderly to me      Something sings unceasingly -         Little Tommy Smith.      On the verge of some far land      Still forever does he stand,      With his cap-rim rakishly      Tilted; so he smiles on me -         Little Tommy Smith.      Elder-blooms contrast the grace      Of the rover's radiant face -      Whistling back, in mimicry,      "Old - Bob - White!" all liquidly -         Little Tommy Smith.      O my jaunty statuette      Of first love, I see you yet.      Though you smile so mistily,      It is but through tears I see,         Little Tommy Smith.      But, with crown tipped back behind,      And the glad hand of the wind      Smoothing back your hair, I see      Heaven's best angel smile on me, -         Little Tommy Smith.