Boys

There's the witty boy and the pretty boy,
And the boy who oils his hair;
There's the catfaced boy, and the rat-faced boy,
And the boy with the bovine stare. 

There's the steamy boy, and the dreamy boy,
And the boy who is 'up to date';
There is the boy who mopes, and the boy who jokes,
And the boy who is always late. 

There's the tender boy, and the slender boy,
And the boy with limbs like a bear's;
There's the stoutish boy, and the loutish boy,
And the boy who slides downstairs. 

There's the cheerful boy and 'that fearful boy';
And the boy who deserves a flogging;
There's a boy with a heart and the boy who's too 'smart',
And the boy whose brain wants a jogging. 

There's the grass-green boy, and the bright, keen boy,
And the boy who is always blubbing;
There's the climby boy and the grimy boy,
And the boy who shirks his tubbing. 

There are many others, oh men and brothers,
And none are all bad, you bet;
There are boys and boys - yet, through grief and joys,
They are Somebody's Darlings yet. 

[The Boy's Own Reciter]