THE owlets in roof-holes Can sing for themselves; The smallest brown squirrel Both scampers and delves; But a baby does nothing -- She never knows how -- She must hark to her mother Who sings to her now. Sleep then, ladykin, peeping so; Hide your handies and ley lei lo. The lish baby otter Is sleeky and streaming, With catching bright fishes, Ere babies learn dreaming; But no wet little otter Is ever so warm As the fleecy-wrapt baby 'Twixt me and my arm. | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...HIS OWNE EPITAPH by FRANCOIS VILLON THURSDAY by WILLIAM CARLOS WILLIAMS MADRIGAL by WILLIAM DRUMMOND OF HAWTHORNDEN DAFFODILS by LIZETTE WOODWORTH REESE IO VICTIS by WILLIAM WETMORE STORY TIPPERARY: 3. AS THE INTERLINEARS MIGHT TAKE IT FROM XENOPHON by FRANKLIN PIERCE ADAMS |