The baby in the looking-glass Is smiling through at me; She has her teaspoon in her hand, Her feeder on for tea. And if I look behind her I Can see the table spread; I wonder if she has to eat The nasty crusts of bread. Her doll, like mine, is sitting close Beside her special chair, She has a pussy on her lap; It must be my cup there. Her picture-book is on the floor, The cover's just the same; And tidily upon the shelf I see my Ninepin game. O baby in the looking-glass, Come through and play with me, And if you will, I promise, dear, To eat your crusts at tea. | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...ADELAIDE CRAPSEY by CARL SANDBURG THE VIKING GRAVE AT LADBY by KAREN SWENSON THE HOUSE OF LIFE: 50. WILLOWWOOD (2) by DANTE GABRIEL ROSSETTI MELANCHOLIE by JOSEPH BEAUMONT REBECCA; WHO SLAMMED DOORS FOR FUN AND PERISHED MISERABLY by HILAIRE BELLOC THE WOOD-CUTTERS WIFE by WILLIAM ROSE BENET |