Page 4—Baby Rhymes
A Piece of Poetry for Mother and Father to Read
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I suppose if all the children, Who have lived through ages long, Were collected and inspected They would make a wondrous throng. Oh the babble of the Babel! Oh, the flutter and the fuss; To begin with Cain and Abel, And to finish up with us! Some have never laughed nor spoken, Never used their rosy feet; Some have even flown to heaven, Ere they knew that earth was sweet. And indeed, I wonder whether, If we reckon every birth, And bring such a flock together, There is room for them on earth. Think of all the men and women Who are now and who have been; Every nation since creation That this world of ours has seen. And of all of them not any But was once a baby small; While of children, oh, how many Never have grown up at all. |
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