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Lord Byron (1788–1824).  Poetry of Byron.  1881.
 
IV. Satiric
Our Children
 
(Don Juan, Canto iii. Stanzas 59, 60.)

IT is a hard although a common case
  To find our children running restive;—they,
In whom our brightest days we would retrace,
  Our little selves re-form’d in finer clay,
Just as old age is creeping on apace,        5
  And clouds come o’er the sunset of our day,
They kindly leave us, though not quite alone,
But in good company—the gout or stone.
 
Yet a fine family is a fine thing
  (Provided they don’t come in after dinner);        10
’Tis beautiful to see a matron bring
  Her children up (if nursing them don’t thin her);
Like cherubs round an altar-piece they cling
  To the fireside (a sight to touch a sinner)
A lady with her daughters or her nieces        15
Shine like a guinea and seven-shilling pieces.
 
 
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