Page:Wee wee songs for our little pets.djvu/160



Is this new life so sweet to thee, my little baby boy, That thus thy minutes seem to be a constant course of joy? I gaze upon thy laughing face, I hear thy joyous tone, Till the glad feeling of thy heart oft passes to my own.

No titled infant for whose brow a coronet shines fair Is blest with better health than thou or nursed with tenderer care; And be it prince or peasant's child, the station high or low, These blessings are the only ones its earliest days can know.

I would not damp thy present joy with tales of future care, Nor paint the ills of life, dear boy, which thou must feel and bear; The early dew is fair to view although it vanish soon, And lovely is the morning flower that withers when 'tis noon.