An ache in the back and an ache in the arms, All on account of the baby; A fear and a fright and a thousand alarms, All on account of the baby; And bottles and rattles and whistles and rings, From cellar to attic a clutter of things, From morning to night and to morning again More fuss and more fume than an army of men, And a head that is stupid for lack of its Bleep, And a heart where a flood of anxieties leap, - All on account of the baby. A joy In the heart and a light in the eyes, All on account of the baby. A growing content and a growing surprise, All on account of the baby; And patience that conquers a myriad frets, And a sunshiny song that another begets, And pureness of soul as a baby is pure, And sureness of faith as the children are sure, And a glory of love between husband and wife, And a saner and happier outlook on life, All on account of the baby. | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...KUBLA KHAN by SAMUEL TAYLOR COLERIDGE INTERIM by CLARISSA SCOTT DELANY THE DARK MAN by NORA (CHESSON) HOPPER A DIALOGUE BETWEEN THE SOUL AND BODY by ANDREW MARVELL SONNET: 99 by WILLIAM SHAKESPEARE |