Great Flowers, Great Prices

Celebrating Mother's Day at The Holiday Zone

The Baby
Ann Taylor

Safe sleeping on its mother's breast
     The smiling babe appears ;
Now sweetly sinking into rest,
     Now wash'd in sudden tears.
Hush, hush, my little baby dear,
There's nobody to hurt you here.

Without a mother's tender care,
     The little thing must die;
Its chubby hands too feeble are
     One service to supply ;
And not a tittle does it know
What kind of world 'tis come into.

The lamb sports gaily on the grass
     When scarcely born a day ;
The foal beside its mother ass,
     Trots frolicsome away,
And not a creature, tame or wild,
Is half so helpless as a child.

To nurse the Dolly gaily drest.
     And stroke its flaxen hair,
Or ring the coral at its waist,
     With silver bells so fair,
Is all the little creature can,
That is so soon to be a man.

Full many a summer's sun must glow
     And lighten up the skies,
Before its tender limbs can grow
     To any thing of size;
And all the while the mother's eye
Must every little want supply.

Then surely, when each little limb
     Shall grow to healthy size,
And youth and manhood strengthen him
     For toil and enterprize,
His mother's kindness ia a debt,
He never, never will forget,
All content not attributed to another source is original and may not be re-posted on any other website.

Material on this site may be reproduced in printed form for non-commercial use (including school, church, and community/civic club use) as long as proper credit, including a link to this site, is given.

Material may not be reproduced for commercial use without written permission.

Apple iTunes