They say,
Naught rhymes to Babe,
In any lay
Save “astrolabe,”—
And Tippoo Saib!
Oh, tiny face,
And tiny feet,
Oh, infant grace,
So incomplete,
Kiss me, my Sweet!
They say,
Naught rhymes to Babe,
In any lay
Save “astrolabe,”—
And Tippoo Saib!
Oh, tiny face,
And tiny feet,
Oh, infant grace,
So incomplete,
Kiss me, my Sweet!