Ye Little Household Gods, That Make

Ye little household gods, that make
My heart leap lighter with your play,
And never let it sink or ache,
Unless you are too far away;
Right years have flown, and never yet
One day has risen up between
The kisses of my earlier pet,
And few the hours he was not seen.
How can I call to you from Home?
Will mamma teach what babbo said?
Have ye not heard him talk at home
About the city of the dead?
Marvellous tales will babbo tell,
If you don't clasp his throat too tight,
Tales which you, Arnold, will love well,
Tho' Julia's cheek turns pale with fright.
io-
How, swimming o'er the Tiber, Clelia
Headed the rescued virgin train;
And, loftier virtue! how Cornelia
Lived when her two brave sons were slain.
This is my birthday: may ye waltze
Till mamma cracks her best guitar!
Yours are true pleasures; those are false
We wise ones follow from afar.
What shall I bring you? would you like
Urn, image, glass, red, yellow, blue,
Stricken by Time, who soon must strike
As deep the heart that beats for you.