A little bit of baby in a little bit of cot: Why, it isn't bigger, maybe, than -- it doesn't matter what, Bigger, maybe, than a minute, bigger, maybe, than a mouse; But that cot has wonders in it -- there's a baby in the house! For that house forever after is another sort of place: There's a whole lot more of laughter, there's a little more of grace; Though we number two or seven, there's a whole lot more of mirth, There's a little more of heaven, there's a little less of earth. There's a little more of hurry, when you have a baby there, There's a little more of worry and a little more of care; There's a little more attendance on the truths of long ago, There's a little more dependence on the God we used to know. For there's this about a baby, and a house with babies in: Oh, we often wander, maybe, into idleness and sin; But there comes a little fairy tripping lightly o'er the sod, Just a little missionary who will lead us back to God. | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...JOHNNY SPAIN'S WHITE HEIFER by HAYDEN CARRUTH MA LADY'S LIPS AM LIKE DE HONEY (NEGRO LOVE SONG) by JAMES WELDON JOHNSON THE GOLDEN WEDDING OF STERLING AND SARAH LANIER by SIDNEY LANIER BEFORE DAWN; SONNET by AMY LOWELL SPOON RIVER ANTHOLOGY: AMOS SIBLEY by EDGAR LEE MASTERS OCTAVES: 16 by EDWIN ARLINGTON ROBINSON |