Poems for Children Sigourney/Baby of six months old, to her neighbor on his second birth-day
Baby of six months old, to her neighbour on his second birth-day.
The rolling earth
Your day of birth,
Brings fair and fleeting,
And as a friend
I long to send
My simple greeting.
Yet almost fear
To have you hear
My poor inditing,
Your critic smile
Must scorn my style
Of baby-writing.
Six months have shed
Upon my head
But little knowledge,
While you are fit
In sense and wit
To enter college.
My mother said
The map you'd spread
And shew with ease,
All the globe boasts,
Realms, isles and coasts,
And lakes and seas.
That you'd describe
The four-legged tribe
Both great and small,
Both wild and tam'd
That Adam nam'd
In Eden, all.
Years, at this rate
Will make you great,
Or I'm mistaken,
Perhaps with Locke,
The crowd you'll mock
Or shine like Bacon.
With Franklin's zeal
The lightning steal,
And chain its rage,
Or nobly write
Your name like Dwight,
On Heaven's own page.
Our sex I'm told
Are formed to hold
A lower place,
Our powers of mind
Being far behind
Your lordly race.
I've understood
That "household-good"
Was our employment,
To cook and mend,
And babies tend,
Our chief enjoyment.
'Tis very well,
I shan't rebel,
And when I grow,
Shall like to make
Nice pies and cake,
And share also.
But now good bye,
'Tis time that I
Your patience spare,
May you each day
In love repay
A parent's care.