Читать книгу In My Nursery - Richards Laura Elizabeth Howe, Laura Richards - Страница 15

Little old baby, pretty old baby,

Screams and cries at his little old bath,

Pours on the head of his little old mother

All the full vials of baby wrath.

Little old baby, pretty old baby,

If you could see just how queer you look, —

Arms and legs in a knot together,

Face twisted up in a terrible crook, —

How you would straighten out every feature,

Masculine vanity all aflame!

Fie! what a noise from a little wee creature!

Did they abuse him! and was it a shame!

Little old baby, pretty old baby,

Curls himself over and goes to sleep.

Ah! such is life, my little old baby,

Sleep and forget it, or wake and weep!