Babys First Journey
Lightly they hold him and lightly they sway him—Soft as a pillow are somebody's arms.
Down he goes slowly, ever so
Over the rim of the cradle they lay him—Baby's first journey is free from alarms.
Baby is growing while Mama sings by-lo,
Sturdy and rosy and laughing and fair,
Crowing and growing past every one's knowing,
Out goes the cradle and in comes the "high-lo,"Baby's next journey is into this chair.
Crying or cooing or waking or sleeping,
Baby is ever a thing to adore.
Look at him yonder—oh what a wonder,
Who would believe it, the darling is creeping,
Baby's next journey is over the floor.
Sweeter and cuter and brighter and stronger,
Mama can see every day how he's grown.
Shoes are all battered, stockings all tattered,
Oh! but the baby is baby no
Look at the fellow—he's walking alone!
Ella Wheeler Wilcox
Other author posts
The Coming Man
Oh, not for the great departed, Who formed our country's laws, And not for the Who died in freedom's cause,
Five Little Toes At Night
This little toe is tired, This little toe needs rocking, This little toe is sleepy you know, But this little toe keeps talking,
The Land Of Nowhere
Do you know where the summer blooms all the year 'round, Where there never is rain on a pic-nic day Where the thornless rose in its beauty And little boys never are called from play
The Flowers Have Tender Little Souls
The flowers have tender little That love, rejoice, aspire Each star that on its orbit Feels infinite desire
