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This poem is often wrongly thought to be by Robert W Service. It is published here to the memory of Hugh Antoine D'Arcy, it's rightful father.
An Evening with the Bard of the Yukon, July 18 th 2003 at 20.30pm in the Town-Hall of Lancieux, Brittany.
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Archives > Books and Poetry > Poetry > Rhymes for My Rags (1956) > Songs of a Grand-Sire > Balloon

Balloon

Published by Susan on 2003/8/8 (1657 reads)
I bought my little grandchild Ann...

I bought my little grandchild Ann
        A bright balloon,
And I was such a happy man
        To hear her croon.
She laughed and babbled with delight,
        So gold its glow,
As by a thread she held it tight,
        Then--let it go.

As if it gloried to be free
        It climbed the sky;
But oh how sorrowful was she,
        And sad was I!
And when at eve with sobbing cry
        She saw the moon,
She pleaded to the pensive sky
        For her balloon.

O Little One, I pray that you
        In years to be,
Will hold a tiny baby too,
        And know its glee;
That yours will always be the thrill
        And joy of June,
And that you never, never will
        Cry for the moon.
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