Baby's brain is tired of thinking Of the Wherefore and the Whence; Baby's precious eyes are blinking With incipient somnolence. Little hands are weary turning Heavy leaves of lexicon; Little nose is fretted learning How to keep its glasses on. Baby knows the laws of nature Are beneficent and wise; His medulla oblongata Bids my darling close his eyes. And his pneumogastrics tell him Quietude is always best When his little cerebellum Needs recuperative rest. Baby must have relaxation, Let the world go wrong or right-- Sleep, my darling, leave Creation To its chances for the night. | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...LOVE'S CAUTION by WILLIAM HENRY DAVIES RESURRECTION, IMPERFECT by JOHN DONNE A CHRISTMAS FOLKSONG by PAUL LAURENCE DUNBAR DREAMS OLD AND NASCENT: NASCENT by DAVID HERBERT LAWRENCE HARLEM SHADOWS by CLAUDE MCKAY YOUR LAD, AND MY LAD by RANDALL PARRISH POLLY by WILLIAM BRIGHTY RANDS HE MOURNS FOR THE CHANGE THAT HAS COME UPON HIM AND BELOVED by WILLIAM BUTLER YEATS |