Came up and kissed the pretty lass.

She did not make the least objection,

Thinks I “Ha ha!

When I’m grown up I’ll tell mamma.”

And that’s my earliest recollection.

That is a poem by a man pretending to infancy. Here is a genuine child-product, one of the lyrics of a little American girl named Hilda Conklin. Don’t you think it rather beautiful?

WATER

The world turns softly

Not to spill its lakes and rivers,

The water is held in its arms