A careful man I ought to be,
For my little children follow me;
I do not dare to go astray,
For fear they’ll go the selfsame way.
Not once can I escape their eyes;
Whate’er they see me do, they’ll try;
Like me, they say, they’re going to be,
Those little ones who follow me.
I must remember as I go,
Through summer sun and winter snow,
I’m molding for the years to be -
Those little ones who follow me.