the home book of verse-1-第16章
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I'll take you out to see the moon；
And for the first time； child of ours；
You shall … think of it！ … look on flowers；
And smell them； too； if you are good；
And hear the green leaves in the wood
Talking； talking； all together
In the happy windy weather；
And if the journey's not too far
For little limbs so lately made；
Limb upon limb like petals laid；
We'll go and picnic in a star。
II
Blue eyes； looking up at me；
I wonder what you really see；
Lying in your cradle there；
Fragrant as a branch of myrrh？
Helpless little hands and feet；
O so helpless！ O so sweet！
Tiny tongue that cannot talk；
Tiny feet that cannot walk；
Nothing of you that can do
Aught； except those eyes of blue。
How they open； how they close！ …
Eyelids of the baby…rose。
Open and shut … so blue； so wise；
Baby…eyelids； baby…eyes。
III
That； Fragoletta； is the rain
Beating upon the window…pane；
But lo！ The golden sun appears；
To kiss away the window's tears。
That； Fragoletta； is the wind；
That rattles so the window…blind；
And yonder shining thing's a star；
Blue eyes … you seem ten times as far。
That； Fragoletta； is a bird
That speaks； yet never says a word；
Upon a cherry tree it sings；
Simple as all mysterious things；
Its little life to peck and pipe；
As long as cherries ripe and ripe；
And minister unto the need
Of baby…birds that feed and feed。
This； Fragoletta； is a flower；
Open and fragrant for an hour；
A flower； a transitory thing；
Each petal fleeting as a wing；
All a May morning blows and blows；
And then for everlasting goes。
IV
Blue eyes； against the whiteness pressed
Of little mother's hallowed breast；
The while your trembling lips are fed；
Look up at mother's bended head；
All benediction over you …
O blue eyes looking into blue！
Fragoletta is so small；
We wonder that she lives at all …
Tiny alabaster girl；
Hardly bigger than a pearl；
That is why we take such care；
Lest some one run away with her。
Richard Le Gallienne ＇1866…
CHOOSING A NAME
I have got a new…born sister：
I was nigh the first that kissed her。
When the nursing…woman brought her
To papa； his infant daughter；
How papa's dear eyes did glisten！
She will shortly be to christen；
And papa has made the offer；
I shall have the naming of her。
Now I wonder what would please her； …
Charlotte； Julia； or Louisa？
Ann and Mary； they're too common；
Joan's too formal for a woman；
Jane's a prettier name beside；
But we had a Jane that died。
They would say； if 'twas Rebecca；
That she was a little Quaker。
Edith's pretty； but that looks
Better in old English books；
Ellen's left off long ago；
Blanche is out of fashion now。
None that I have named as yet
Is so good as Margaret。
Emily is neat and fine；
What do you think of Caroline？
How I'm 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 ＇1764…1847＇
WEIGHING THE BABY
〃How many pounds does the baby weigh …
Baby who came but a month ago？
How many pounds from the crowning curl
To the rosy point of the restless toe？〃
Grandfather ties the 'kerchief knot；
Tenderly guides the swinging weight；
And carefully over his glasses peers
To read the record； 〃only eight。〃
Softly the echo goes around：
The father laughs at the tiny girl；
The fair young mother sings the words；
While grandmother smooths the golden curl。
And stooping above the precious thing；
Nestles a kiss within a prayer；
Murmuring softly 〃Little one；
Grandfather did not weigh you fair。〃
Nobody weighed the baby's smile；
Or the love that came with the helpless one；
Nobody weighed the threads of care；
From which a woman's life is spun。
No index tells the mighty worth
Of a little baby's quiet breath …
A soft； unceasing metronome；
Patient and faithful until death。
Nobody weighed the baby's soul；
For here on earth no weights there be
That could avail； God only knows
Its value in eternity。
Only eight pounds to hold a soul
That seeks no angel's silver wing；
But shrines it in this human guise；
Within so frail and small a thing！
Oh； mother！ laugh your merry note；
Be gay and glad； but don't forget
From baby's eyes looks out a soul
That claims a home in Eden yet。
Ethel Lynn Beers ＇1827…1879＇
ETUDE REALISTE
I
A baby's feet； like seashells pink；
Might tempt； should heaven see meet；
An angel's lips to kiss； we think；
A baby's feet。
Like rose…hued sea…flowers toward the heat
They stretch and spread and wink
Their ten soft buds that part and meet。
No flower…bells that expand and shrink
Gleam half so heavenly sweet；
As shine on life's untrodden brink
A baby's feet。
II
A baby's hands； like rosebuds furled；
Where yet no leaf expands；
Ope if you touch； though close upcurled； …
A baby's hands。
Then； even as warriors grip their brands
When battle's bolt is hurled；
They close； clenched hard like tightening bands。
No rosebuds yet by dawn impearled
Match； even in loveliest lands；
The sweetest flowers in all the world； …
A baby's hands。
III
A baby's eyes； ere speech begin；
Ere lips learn words or sighs；
Bless all things bright enough to win
A baby's eyes。
Love； while the sweet thing laughs and lies；
And sleep flows out and in；
Sees perfect in them Paradise！
Their glance might cast out pain and sin；
Their speech make dumb the wise；
By mute glad godhead felt within
A baby's eyes。
Algernon Charles Swinburne ＇1837…1909＇
LITTLE FEET
Two little feet； so small that both may nestle
In one caressing hand； …
Two tender feet upon the untried border
Of life's mysterious land。
Dimpled； and soft； and pink as peach…tree blossoms；
In April's fragrant days；
How can they walk among the briery tangles；
Edging the world's rough ways？
These rose…white feet； along the doubtful future；
Must bear a mother's load；
Alas！ since Woman has the heavier burden；
And walks the harder road。
Love； for a while； will make the path before them
All dainty； smooth； and fair； …
Will cull away the brambles； letting only
The roses blossom there。
But when the mother's watchful eyes are shrouded
Away from sight of men；
And these dear feet are left without her guiding；
Who shall direct them then？
How will they be allured； betrayed； deluded；
Poor little untaught feet！
Into what dreary mazes will they wander；
What dangers will they meet？
Will they go stumbling blindly in the darkness
Of Sorrow's tearful shades？
Or find the upland slopes of Peace and Beauty；
Whose sunlight never fades？
Will they go toiling up Ambition's summit；
The common world above？
Or in some nameless vale； securely sheltered；
Walk side by side with Love？
Some feet there be which walk Life's track unwounded；
Which find but pleasant ways：
Some hearts there be to which this life is only
A round of happy days。
But these are few。 Far more there are who wander
Without a hope or friend； …
Who find their journey full of pains and losses；
And long to reach the end。
How shall it be with her； the tender stranger；
Fair…faced and gentle…eyed；
Before whose unstained feet the world's rude highway
Stretches so fair and wide？
Ah！ who may read the future？ For our darling
We crave all blessings sweet；
And pray that He who feeds the crying ravens
Will guide the baby's feet。
Elizabeth Akers ＇1832…1911＇
THE BABIE
Nae shoon to hide her tiny taes；
Nae stockin' on her feet；
Her supple ankles white as snaw；
Or early blossoms sweet。
Her simple dress o' sprinkled pink；
Her double； dimplit chin；
Her puckered lips； an'
