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.
[Page 5--Baby Rhymes]
[Illustration: Getting Up As Happy As Larks.]
Who will wash their smiling faces?
Who their saucy ears will box?
Who will dress them and caress them?
Who will darn their little socks?
Where are arms enough to hold them?
Hands to pat each smiling head?
Who will praise them? who will scold them?
Who will pack them off to bed?
Little happy Christian children,
Little savage children too,
In all stages of all ages,
That our planet ever knew;
Little princes and princesses,
Little beggars, wan and faint--
Some in very handsome dresses,
Naked some, bedaubed with paint.
Only think of the confusion
Such a motley crowd would make;
And the clatter of their chatter,
And the things that they won't break
Oh the babble of the Babel!
Oh, the flutter and the fuss;
To begin with Cain and Abel,
And to finish up with us!
[Page 6--Children's Rhymes]