To a Little Girl

To a Little Girl
Edgar A. Guest

Little girl, just half past three,
Take this little rhyme from me,
All the joy that gold can bring,
All the songs the birds can sing,
All this world can hold to give,
Grown-up men the while they live,
Hath not half the charm of you
And the lovely things you do.

Little girl, just half past three,
When God sent you down to me,
Oft I wonder, did He know
Fortune's power would dwindle so?
Did He know that I should find
Such a curious change of mind,
And should some day come to see
Just how trivial pomp can be?

Little girl, just half past three,
Lost are dreams that used to be.
Now, the things I thought worthwhile
Could not buy your lovely smile,
And I would not give you up
For the golden plate and cup
And the crown a king may boast,
In my life you're uppermost.

Little girl, just half past three,
This is what you mean to me,
More than all that money buys,
More than any selfish prize,
More than fortune, more than fame,
And I learned this when you came.
Other fathers know it, too.
Nothing matters more than you.

My mother shared this beautiful poem with me recently. It is especially moving to me, as my beautiful daughter, Elizabeth, is just 3 1/2 years old.