BABY, baby, naughty baby, Hush, you squalling thing, I say. Peace this moment, peace, or maybe Bonaparte will pass this way. Baby, baby, he's a giant, Tall and black as Rouen steeple, And he breakfasts, dines, rely on't, Every day on naughty people. Baby, baby, if he hears you, As he gallops past the house, Limb from limb at once he'll tear you, Just as pussy tears a mouse. And he'll beat you, beat you, beat you, And he'll beat you all to pap, And he'll eat you, eat you, eat you, Every morsel snap, snap, snap. | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...TO A MOTH SEEN IN WINTER by ROBERT FROST YOU KNOW WHAT PEOPLE SAY by JAMES GALVIN EVENTIDE by GEORGIA DOUGLAS JOHNSON A PLANTATION BACCHANAL by JAMES WELDON JOHNSON CHAMBER MUSIC: 11 by JAMES JOYCE A SEA-SHORE GRAVE by SIDNEY LANIER THE GOLDEN WEDDING OF STERLING AND SARAH LANIER by SIDNEY LANIER |