Be a Good Boy; Good-By
By John L. Shroy
How oft in my dreams I go back to the
day
When I stood at our old wooden gate,
And started to school in full battle array,
Well armed with a primer and slate.
And as the latch fell, I thought myself
free,
And gloried, I fear, on the sly,
Till I heard a kind voice that whispered
to me:
“Be a good boy; good-by.” “Be a good boy; good-by.” It seems not
They have followed me all these years;
They have given a form to my youthful
dreams,
And scattered my foolish fears. They have stayed my feet on many a
brink,
Unseen by a blinded eye;
For just in time I would pause and think:
“Be a good boy; good-by.” O brother of mine, in the battle of life,
Just starting, or nearing its close,
This motto aloft, in the midst of the
strife,
Will conquer wherever it goes.
Mistakes you will make, for each of us
errs,
But, brother, just honestly try
To accomplish your best. In whatever
occurs,
“Be a good boy; good-by,”
—John L. Shroy.