Donald old Hackett old

ROSENTHAL son, my old fellow

Made mellow and third,

By those Charlie, the CHARLES,

Who are boys and not girls,

And those Jimmy, the JAMES.

Those two others, your brothers

Either with family names,

The now ancient, all told

More than three years old -

Now, young Donald, to Jim

And to Charlie, you add you a him,

ROBERT, your father, and further,

That industrious Elizabeth

Mother, and manager, boss,

On whom there groweth no moss,

Nor, Don, on that paragon parent

Of whom there not many aren't

Like him. Mr. DONALD, in fact,

Grow up quick, catch the act,

It's a big bang, this gang,

And you'll like being along -

So - my cheers, for your tries,

And this first burst of applause.