Up and down, up and down, Baby's riding on my knee, Crumpling up my silken gown In her glee, in her glee; Striking with her rosy fists, Striving with her tiny wrists. Trot my nag, trot my nag, Baby rides more gently now; All her ardor seems to lag Lay her low, lay her low. Let her steed unbridled be, Baby sleeps upon my knee. | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...THE HOUSE OF HOSPITALITIES by THOMAS HARDY CELIA'S HOMECOMING by AGNES MARY F. ROBINSON UPON HIS LEAVING HIS MISTRESS by JOHN WILMOT POEM FOR PICTURE: TO AN OIL PAINTING BY WINSLOW HOMER (DRIFTWOOD) by FRANK ANKENBRAND JR. SHELLEY'S DEATH by ALFRED AUSTIN THE LIFE OF MAN by FRANCIS BACON THE HEATH-COCK by JOANNA BAILLIE |