All hail this gladsome day !
Whereon was born a little girl
With smiling eyes and clustering curl,
As precious as a glistening pearl !
The sun’s most glorious ray
Light up the lovely face and make
Everyone happy for her sake,
And may she have a monster cake
With guests to shout “Hooray !”
Hail, eighth of February !
This is the seventh time thy morn
Has broken since our maid was born,
Six years in which she to adorn
Our home has had. Memory
Holds fast to what is treasured there,
Those precious years of essence rare,
That joy with which naught can compare …
Her radiant company.
Hail, postman at the door !
Your beaming face shows that you guess
This is a special day, no less
The birthday of Her Loveliness,
There’s birthday cards, a score !
The house is full of girls and boys
Who simply make a dreadful noise,
And play with games and books and toys,
And sprawl upon the floor.