Two adjustable eyes, that grow dim when surveying
A boy with torn shirt, and all dirty from playing;
And eyes that can see his poor marks not at all,
But can follow the line of his clever pitched ball:
Two ears that are deaf to boys' bellows and clatter,
But keen to their call - when there's something the matter.
An "unsnooty" nose that's not a bit fussy
If the family dog gets all smelly and mussy:
But detects the best spices for cookies and pies, -
And daily allows that sweet incense to rise;
Two lips that are firm, with two nice upward curves;
A tongue that is not closely hinged to her nerves;
Two arms that know when to surround a small boy;
That shield, but don't smother - nor act as decoy:
Two hands - not too white - that can mend a torn kite,
Or sew a ripped ball, or relieve a boy's plight;
Two feet - with low heels - that are willing and able
To shuttle, in rhythm, from hot stove to table;
Light feet, not so mired in the tasks of a home
That they are unable to take wings and roam;
These parts, all assembled, do - somehow or other -
Make the nicest kind of a mother.