What is the little one thinking about?
Very wonderful things, no doubt;
Unwritten history!
Unfathomed mystery!
Yet he laughs and cries, and eats and drinks,
And chuckles and crows, and nods and winks,
As if his head were as full of kinks
And curious riddles as any sphinx!
- Josiah Gilbert Holland (used pseudonym Timothy Titcomb),
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Rock-bye-baby on the tree top,
When the wind blows the cradle will rock.
When the bough bends read more
Rock-bye-baby on the tree top,
When the wind blows the cradle will rock.
When the bough bends the cradle will fall,
Down comes the baby, cradle and all.
Sweet babe, in thy face
Soft desires I can trace,
Secret joys and secret smiles,
read more
Sweet babe, in thy face
Soft desires I can trace,
Secret joys and secret smiles,
Little pretty infant wiles.
O child! O new-born denizen
Of life's great city! on thy head
The glory of morn is read more
O child! O new-born denizen
Of life's great city! on thy head
The glory of morn is shed,
Like a celestial benison!
Here at the portal thou dost stand,
And with thy little hand
Thou openest the mysterious gate
Into the future's undiscovered land.
Baloo, baloo, my wee, wee thing.
Baloo, baloo, my wee, wee thing.
Look! how he laughs and stretches out his arms,
And opens wide his blue eyes upon thine,
read more
Look! how he laughs and stretches out his arms,
And opens wide his blue eyes upon thine,
To hail his father; while his little form
Flutters as winged with joy. Talk not of pain!
The childless cherubs well might envy thee
The pleasures of a parent.
A tight little bundle of wailing and flannel,
Perplex'd with the newly found fardel of life.
A tight little bundle of wailing and flannel,
Perplex'd with the newly found fardel of life.
He seemed a cherub who had lost his way
And wandered hither, so his stay
With us read more
He seemed a cherub who had lost his way
And wandered hither, so his stay
With us was short, and 'twas most meet,
That he should be no delver in earth's clod,
Nor need to pause and cleanse his feet
To stand before his God:
O blest word--Evermore!
He is so little to be so large!
Why, a train of cars, or a whale-back barge
read more
He is so little to be so large!
Why, a train of cars, or a whale-back barge
Couldn't carry the freight
Of the monstrous weight
Of all of his qualities, good and great.
And tho' one view is as good as another
Don't take my word for it. Ask his mother!
Sweet is the infant's waking smile,
And sweet the old man's rest--
But middle age by no read more
Sweet is the infant's waking smile,
And sweet the old man's rest--
But middle age by no fond wile,
No soothing calm is blest.
