Little Willie

When Willie was a little boy,

    No more than five or six,

  Right constantly he did annoy

    His mother with his tricks.

  Yet not a picayune cared I

    For what he did or said,

  Unless, as happened frequently,

    The rascal wet the bed.

  Closely he cuddled up to me,

    And put his hands in mine,

  Till all at once I seemed to be

    Afloat in seas of brine.

  Sabean odors clogged the air,

    And filled my soul with dread,

  Yet I could only grin and bear

    When Willie wet the bed.

  'Tis many times that rascal has

    Soaked all the bedclothes through,

  Whereat I'd feebly light the gas

    And wonder what to do.

  Yet there he lay, so peaceful like;

    God bless his curly head,

  I quite forgave the little tyke

    For wetting of the bed.

  Ah me, those happy days have flown.

    My boy's a father, too,

  And little Willies of his own

    Do what he used to do.

  And I! Ah, all that's left for me

    Is dreams of pleasure fled!

  Our boys ain't what they used to be

    When Willie wet the bed.

  Had I my choice, no shapely dame

    Should share my couch with me,

  No amorous jade of tarnished fame,

    Nor wench of high degree;

  But I would choose and choose again

    The little curly head,

  Who cuddled close beside me when

    He used to wet the bed.

Composition Date:1895 (Thompson, 159).Form: ababcdcd 5.picayune: Spanish coin once used in southern US\; a trivial thing13.Sabean: Pertaining to Saba in Arabia. Saba was celebrated for producing aromatic plants and so we can assume Fields was having a subtle joke here.