Poems (Piatt)/Volume 1/The Baby's Brother
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THE BABY'S BROTHER
The Baby is brought for the lady to see:
"Was ever a lily-bud nicer than he?"
But the door opens fiercely on cooing and kiss,
And—what merry outlaw from the greenwood is this?
"Was ever a lily-bud nicer than he?"
But the door opens fiercely on cooing and kiss,
And—what merry outlaw from the greenwood is this?
His brother?—who laughs at himself in my face:
This picturesque vagabond, graceless with grace,
Whose head, like a king's come to grief, is discrowned———
Ah, the kitten was wicked, and so she is drowned?
This picturesque vagabond, graceless with grace,
Whose head, like a king's come to grief, is discrowned———
Ah, the kitten was wicked, and so she is drowned?
All flushed with the butterfly chase, how he stands,
With a nestful of birds in his pitiless hands,
Which he mildly assures me were torn from the tree,
Or they'd trouble their mother as Baby does me!
With a nestful of birds in his pitiless hands,
Which he mildly assures me were torn from the tree,
Or they'd trouble their mother as Baby does me!
"Well, if Baby is sweet, you must love him right fast,
Because———don't you know? Why, because he'll not last!
For I was a baby, too, some of these days,
And just look at me now!" he unsparingly says.
Because———don't you know? Why, because he'll not last!
For I was a baby, too, some of these days,
And just look at me now!" he unsparingly says.