Thomas Bailey Aldrich

We weep when we are born,
Not when we die!

We weep when we are born,
Not when we die!

Or light or dark, or short or tall,
She sets a springe to snare them all:
All's read more

Or light or dark, or short or tall,
She sets a springe to snare them all:
All's one to her--above her fan
She'd make sweet eyes at Caliban.

Hebe's here, May is here!
The air is fresh and sunny;
And the miser-bees are busy
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Hebe's here, May is here!
The air is fresh and sunny;
And the miser-bees are busy
Hoarding golden honey.

Good night! I have to say good night,
To such a host of peerless things!

Good night! I have to say good night,
To such a host of peerless things!

Have you not heard the poets tell
How came the dainty Baby Bell
Into this world of read more

Have you not heard the poets tell
How came the dainty Baby Bell
Into this world of ours?