The parents of daughters will rarely be lonely.
Their lives are a circus, because they’ve not only
Their girls in the house, but, kind heaven defend them,
They have all the love-smitten lads who attend them.
This isn’t the lot of the parents of sons,
They sit by their hearth as the long evening runs,
Bereft of their boys, who’ll brave fires and waters
To be at the homes of the parents of daughters.
—-Georgie Starbuck Galbraith