Child life: a collection of poems . I HAVE got a new-born sister. I was nigh the first that kissed her. When tlie nursing-woman brought her To papa, his infant daughter, How papas dear eyes did glisten ! — Slie will shortly be to christen ; And papa has made the offer I shall have the nanung of her. Xow, I wonder what would please her — Charlotte, Julia or Louisa ? Ann and Mary theyre too common ; Joans too formal for a woman ; Janes a prettier name beside ; But we had a Jane that died. They would say, if twas Rebecca, That she was a little Quaker. Ediths pretty, but that looks Better in old E
Child life: a collection of poems . I HAVE got a new-born sister. I was nigh the first that kissed her. When tlie nursing-woman brought her To papa, his infant daughter, How papas dear eyes did glisten ! — Slie will shortly be to christen ; And papa has made the offer I shall have the nanung of her. Xow, I wonder what would please her — Charlotte, Julia or Louisa ? Ann and Mary theyre too common ; Joans too formal for a woman ; Janes a prettier name beside ; But we had a Jane that died. They would say, if twas Rebecca, That she was a little Quaker. Ediths pretty, but that looks Better in old English books ; Ellens left off long ago ; Blanche is out of fashion now. None that I have named as yet Are so good as Margaret. Emily is neat and fine ; What do you thiuk of Caroline ? How Im puzzled and perplexed What to choose or think of next ! I am in a little fever Lest the name that I should give her Should disgrace her or defame her : — I will leave papa to name her. — Mary Lamb INFANCY 13 ^>r \f rdff .i, ir^: X N. PHILIP, MY KING. Look at me with thy large, brown eyes, Phihp, my King !For round thee the purple shadow liesOf babyhoods regal dignitiesLay on my neck tiiy tiny handWith Loves invisible sceptre laden ;I am thine Esther, to commandTill thou shalt find thy queen hand-maiden, Philip, my King i 14 CHILD LIFE. Oh, the day when thou goest a-wooing, Philip, my King !When those beautiful lips are , some gentle hearts bars undoing,Thou dost enter, love-crowned, and thereSittest all glorified ! — Rule , over thy kingdom fair ;For we that love, ah ! we love so blindly, Philip, my King ! I gaze from thy sweet mouth up to thy brow, Philip, my King !Aye, there lies the spirit, all sleeping may rise like a giant, and make men bowAs to one God-throned amidst his Saul, than thy brethren higher and fairer,Let me behold thee in coming years !Yet thy head needeth a circlet rarer, Philip, my King — A wreath, not of gold, bu
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Keywords: ., book, bookcentury1800, bookdecade1870, booksubjectchildrenspoetry
